


And you pull me like the moon pulls on the tide (to your side)

by Lothlorienne



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Beach, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Beach Holidays, Body Image, Canon Compliant, Depression, Developing Relationship, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Drama & Romance, Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Siblings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Intimacy, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mutual Pining, Nights in Rodanthe AU, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Identity, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 81,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25086379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothlorienne/pseuds/Lothlorienne
Summary: A Nights In Rodanthe AUTwo damaged people reluctantly find themselves growing to care for one another over the course of a stormy short-term beach stay.Heavy focus on the development of the Hank/Connor relationship, with various cameos of other DBH characters. The ones specifically added in the tags do get more attention and development as secondary characters in the story. Slight canon deviation which includes everyone making it through November, after which we launch into this story several months later.(Honestly this entire thing just has big repressed horny and Yearning energies but also idiots dealing with their (post-)canon issues both together and apart. Ah tfw u want to be railed yet also... Held...)Slight spoilers re: rating and warnings: This fic is listed as mature because you'll get sexual content in addition to recurring themes of depression, self-hate & all that jazz, as well as mentions of canon-typical mistreatment of androids. Some violence and (temporary) character death will come up eventually.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 14
Kudos: 34





	1. Wednesday

Hank knocked on his son's door, for what he was certain was the third time since they'd had lunch together. He had yet to see the nine year old reemerge. Considering Ashley was expected to pick him up in about half an hour, this was starting to become a problem.

"Cole? You all good by now?" Hank shifted the pair of shoes he was carrying to his non dominant hand and opened the door just a crack. Turns out the kid was just lounging about with his tablet. A quick glance to the foot of the bed told Hank the boy had finished packing his suitcase (the larger one on wheels this time, instead of the lime green sports bag they packed for Cole's usual stays with his mother). The reason for him having been unresponsive this whole time had been due to Cole playing some app on his mobile screentop. It seemed like he had been at that for a while, slumped comfortably in his comfy pillow fort of a window seat. Hank shook his head before making his approach. Cole didn't notice his father until he was standing right by him, but then paused his game and looked up.

"Hi. Is mom here already?"

"Not yet. What're you playing?"

Cole tilted the screen towards him. "Terrarium Town. If I can do this puzzle in less moves than the average I get special colour customisation on my spiderworts."

"That's great, kiddo. You got everything packed?"

The child nodded.

"Then how about you watch a lil tv with your pop before you're out of here, huh. I'll see you again soon enough but still, we're gonna miss having you 'round." He amiably ruffled the kid's hair. Hank loved that Cole had not yet reached that age where his looks would become everything and he'd be too cool to let his old man be so casually affectionate with him. He knew that time would come soon enough. Though he hoped they'd still be this at ease with each other, and his son would let him help manage all that.

On his way out, Hank picked up a stray pair of socks and dumped them in their hallway laundry hamper before continuing his way to his own bedroom and waiting suitcase. The sturdy, beach appropriate boots were the final addition to its contents. He pressed them down onto his stacks of clothing, puzzle books and electronics before zipping it shut and pulling the travel case off the bed. He'd only be gone for the extended weekend, but due to the weather he'd made sure to pack some versatile garments to layer up. Maybe he could use the time off to finally get through that novel he'd been keeping on his night stand for a while. Or maybe he'd just spend his time looking out across the ocean from the top balcony. Watch the pelicans drift in the breeze. Spot the ships passing by in the far distance. Oh right, unless that lone visitor they were expecting would claim the best viewpoints and refuse to share them. You never knew with that type - the kind of person who'd insist on renting a room to spend five days at an Inn that was supposed to be down fr the storm season. The kind that'd beg, plead, and pay a little extra just to arrange for their stay despite those conditions. Guess Hank would find out soon enough.

He kept pondering on the question as he dragged his suitcase down the stairs, absently kicking a dog toy out of the way as he made his descent. Though any thought of the person responsible for making him go all the way over to the east coast was cut short as he discovered that Cole had already brought his stuff down and was waiting for him to spend just a bit more quality time before they'd part ways. He smiled at the kid fondly. Hank discarded his case by the foot of the stairs, dropped onto the couch and pulled his son close to his side. Cole made himself comfortable, settled in, casually and happily accepted his dad's arm around his shoulders as he flicked through the channels. Hank pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Close to twenty minutes later, edging on late but not terribly so, the door bell rang. Hank left Cole to watch the episode for just a bit longer and went to greet his ex. Seeing her still brought up some contradictory feelings. Ashley had always been an attractive woman, but it felt bittersweet to see how much of her more youthful liveliness she had regained once the divorce had come through. Hank supposed it was better this way for all of them. In a sense, he was happy for her, for how much of a relief it had been to break off a relationship that had slowly died out, but occasionally he still felt that slight twinge of heart ache to see how well this graceful, vibrant woman was doing without him. It sure seemed like she was tackling her early fifties a whole lot better than he was.

The moment she saw him, she gave her former husband a wide smile, a "Hank! How are you?", and a kiss on each cheek. He stepped aside to let her in.

"I'm doing just fine Ash, how about you?" She breezed right past him to get at their son.

"I'm doing grrrreat now that I see my little-" Cole burst into laughter as she bent over the sofa to tickle him. The moment she retreated her fingers from his stomach the child turned his face to look up at her, and the kiss on his forehead came automatically. "How about you, hun."

"I'm great too, mom. Ready to come with you."

"Go give your father a hug."

Hank had followed her in from the hallway and stood with his knees bent and arms wide, ready and waiting to catch his son. The kid came running and jumped up for a tight goodbye hug. Hank pressed him close and took a second to breathe him in before kissing him on the shoulder and putting him back down. His back protested only a little at this.

"You gotta go to the bathroom first?"

"Yeah."

"Go on then."

Cole sped off and Ashley stepped closer again, picking up Cole's bag and making her way back to the front door. Hank grinned just a little apologetically.

"Thanks again for this. I know it's kinda short notice, so I really appreciate you taking care of him for the whole five days."

She shouldered the bag and smiled back at him.

"That's okay, we didn't have much planned anyway." She continued, "Now, are we all set or do we still need to cover some details? I got the Inn's address and extra phone number, but as for Cole's school-"

"I let them know in advance Monday'd be too tight to make it back, they were very understanding and will keep any worksheets and stuff seperate for him to get right back into it the following day. You just need to make sure he gets through today's homework. And maybe he can get some progress on his book report for next week Thursday? Though honestly there's no rush on that, he seems to be pretty on top of things."

"We raised him well."

Hank barked out a laugh, though he knew deep down he genuinely agreed. Ash reached up the hand that wasn't clutching their son's bag and Hank let it glide across his back for a quick hug as Cole joined them again. He knew their child would be in safe hands until he got back.

Less than an hour later Hank exited the house himself, trolley case handle and Sumo's leash in one hand, keys in the other. His hair was neatly tied back to help him focus. He made sure to lock the door (after having checked the windows, light, electronics, all that stuff) on his way out. Their house was safe.

Though he'd not always been the responsible, punctual type of person - Lord knows he'd had some struggles during the deterioration of his marriage and entire divorce procedure, not to mention the self-doubt when it had come to raising Cole after that breakup - the streak of disciplined dedication that had earned him his rank as Lieutenant had grown to flourish while nurturing his child to the best of his abilities. Not to say he never had the occasional slip up. Especially during stressing times at work, or whenever Cole stayed with his mom for more than a few days, or just whenever a seemingly random bout of tired depression decided to rear its ugly head again. But he did take a certain pride in managing to be a stable parent to his kid. And though of course Sumo's company came no where near it, Hank was relieved to know he'd at least have this piece of home with him while he'd be housesitting the Inn.

He turned towards the street, pocketed his keys and fished out his phone to check his DTW cab's location right when it pulled up to the kerb. A quick ID swipe unlocked the vehicle and he led the dog inside before plunking in his baggage, too. Both had to be safely secured before he could get himself settled.

It was a good thing he could confirm his check-in en route to the airport. It wasn't a long drive, but it felt good to at least complete some tasks instead of just staring out the window or triple checking his documents. The cab would lead him straight to bag and animal check-in and he could already forward some of the specifics. The flight would only take about two hours. The requested cab in North Carolina was listed in his displayed itinerary. Everything was taken care of as much as he could at the moment. So Hank allowed himself to lean back and wait.

He vaguely wondered how he'd fare these next five days. The casual retreat had seemed like a good idea, especially since he'd be helping out Carl, but the moment of reprieve still allowed for doubt to creep in. A relaxing little late March beach holiday could be nice in both theory and practice, but Hank couldn't remember the last time he'd been left alone with just himself and his thoughts for more than a day or two. What if the sole guest was a huge nuisance and drove him up the wall. On the other hand, what if they were a complete absentee, sticking to their room or whatever plans that'd driven them to insist upon getting this reservation, leaving Hank empty handed and feeling like an inadequate empty gesture of a host. Of a person. Why had Ashley encouraged him going? His good humour was already on the decline, and it had only been - his eyes flickered to the cab's central screen again - oh God, just shy of an hour since he'd said goodbye to the kid. Cole at this point had definitely settled all his stuff at his mom's house. Knowing Ashley, they'd be sitting at their kitchen counter with some hot drink, getting up to speed on the latest developments in Cole's life. The kid was coping just fine. Why was his dad's happiness so stupidly dependant on that contact?

The Saint Bernard seemed to sense the change of atmosphere shifting into a more nervous one, and lifted his head to look at his human. Hank couldn't help but chortle. Sumo wasn't a therapy dog, but the years of experience'd clearly had some effect. Hank leaned forward to ruffle the dog's fur in thanks. Just this quiet, mellowed presence helped him move back into a more relative, current headspace.

"You ain't worried about a thing now, are you." He kept scratching the dog behind one of its big, floppy ears. The longer he kept going, the heavier Sumo leaned into the touch up until the point it was starting to strain a bit on Hank's muscles. The dog's eyes had slowly drifted shut, as well.

"Yeah, we'll be alright."

It was just past seven pm by the time Hank started to recognise his environment again. He'd grown hungry, tired, a bit frazzled, and though the ocean view helped alleviate some of his stress, he knew he still had a few more minutes to go before he'd arrive at Carl's place. At this point, even the dog had gotten a bit antsy. Hank had made sure to take him for a quick stroll around the airport once they'd safely touched ground, but they'd only had so much time if he wanted to get to the Inn at a decent hour, and the prospect of getting to unwind by that vast stretch of sea was still a whole deal more appealing than the busy convergence zone of the main city had been. The sooner he'd get there, the better.

Hank looked back at the interactive screen of his OBX taxi. Only about fifteen more minutes and he'd be there. He quickly remembered to tap in Carl's home number to give him access to the route progression. God, it had been years since the last visit. He'd taken Ash and Cole with him then, to see Carl's beach house, to all spend some time together. Even though Ashley and him had been drifting apart for a while, they'd still had a pretty pleasant family holiday. However, that had been some time in the late summer months. How old had Cole been? Four, maybe five years old? And now Hank had returned alone, on the cusp of the actual start of the season, speeding towards his destination in an isolated cab as the sun kept sinking lower, taking all light and warmth with it...

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for just a moment. Stop. He searched for the window button and kept his finger on it until the car window on his right had rolled all the way down. It was on the cold side, but the pure and briny breeze instantly did him some good. Sumo huffed out a low "wroof" in appreciation. Hank took out his hair tie, raked his fingers through (a shower would be nice, though maybe dinner would come first) and leaned back in his seat.

As they kept speeding north along Hatteras Island his mind started wandering again, though this time he tried to focus more on his direct surroundings rather than start any spiralling. He just wanted to take in and appreciate whatever there was to see. Which was mostly sand. Some grass and bushes tough enough to survive the weather. An occasional glimpse of the rolling tide. Only the utility poles and the road he was on betrayed any human presence. In defiance, the wind whipped up the sand and made it dance across the asphalt in constant waves.

Hank had gotten so caught up in letting his gaze nonchalantly roam across the stretch of dunes that it took him a good few seconds to catch up and realise his field of vision now included The Inn At Rodanthe. He sat up straight to peer ahead. Sumo picked up on this and similarly straightened up. 

It seemed like the Inn hadn't changed much since Hank's last visit. A solid looking three story structure in warm grey siding, with a few bay windows, balconies, blue shutters all round and a single tower with a fourth story overlooking it all. Elevated and perched on those solid beam foundations that seemed so common with these types of beach homes. Hank vaguely remembered how the white window panes and trimmings matched the seaside stairs and balcony railings. The whole atmosphere kept a balance between comfortable and rustic - reliable and sturdy, with the air of having been so for a while. It felt like a safe place to rest your head. It was comforting to think this place had stood its ground through many a storm, for about half a century at this point. It felt like a relief when the cab finally turned down a smooth exit headed straight for the trusted Inn.

Sumo got up as the car slowed down and Hank unclasped his bag from the safety straps. He confirmed his safe arrival and didn't bother leashing the Saint Bernard before letting the door slide open. He knew the dog wouldn't stray far, and it's not like there'd be anyone who'd mind in the vicinity. The old mutt could enjoy some time to run free.

As the car rolled back out to the main road, Hank took just a second to breathe it all in. The sights, the sounds, that singular smell of the ocean side. He appraised the building again up close. The wood finishings seemed a little faded with the sunlight and abrasive sandy wind, but the overall structure remained sturdy and welcoming nonetheless. The sleekest additions to the property had been the wind turbines and solar panels, better water supply systems, and the wide, smooth expanse of asphalt leading from the street and continuing underneath the house before going straight towards and beyond the coast line, into the sea. The more modern alternative for a boardwalk had made the water more accessible. Carl's autonomous car was parked under the house, somewhat blocking that view. His beach wheelchair was similarly stationed by the elevator, so he had to be home and waiting for his friend's arrival. Hank turned to the stairs leading up to the big wraparound deck of the main floor. The wind had kicked up some of the sand, burying the lowest few steps. He just made a start towards them as those elevator doors opened and an android stepped out. Oh.

"Hello, Hank." The figure waved as a friendly gesture. "It's nice to see you again. I hope your journey has been pleasant?"

"Ah, yes, I-" The man jiggled his travel case a little. Even without stepping into straight up sand, he'd still managed to get some of the stuff caught up in the wheels of his trolley. "Yeah, it went okay. How are you, Markus?"

The android smiled, picking up on the man's struggle. "I'm doing fine, thank you. Should I take that?"

And therein lied the catch. It had only been just over four months since the entire system had changed. Since androids had made a stand and gained autonomy. Hank had visited this place many times before, during which he'd carelessly let Markus take over any task at whim. Because sure, the thing had been shaped like a human, but in the end was just a manmade device to perform exactly these kind of tasks, to lighten the labour of its human and guests. In that mindset, Hank be damned if he was going to bother with any menial work on his holiday. But now, after having learned these AI had real consciousness? It had made him feel ashamed of himself. To have taken advantage, to have been careless or rude or made fun of androids, assuming those words never really had a target to hit anyway. But to think that all this time, such actions had been stacking up and really causing harm to androids as a whole... he only hoped at least the individuals could forgive the callousness, even if they couldn't forget it. As for navigating their new status as equals?

"Oh uh, that's okay, I can carry it in."

Or would that come off as him distrusting Markus, no longer wanting him to touch his things now? Fuck.

"Only if you're sure? I could help with this last leg of your travels, it's really no bother."

Like an idiot, Hank instinctively doubled down. "Yeah no, that's totally fine, thanks."

Markus looked hesitant, but seemed to make the conscious decision not to push this any further.

"Carl prefers the dog stays outside until you've had the chance to discuss this with the expected arrival tomorrow. For now, should we call him up and keep him on the first level deck? He'll have some room to run around there. Also, a few years ago we installed a few pet kennels with temperature control and a live cam, so you- oh, hello!"

As if on cue, the dog reappeared to curiously sniff this new person. Markus immediately crouched down and started petting Sumo with both hands. Perhaps he, too, was grateful for the interruption of the less than ideal conversation he'd found himself part of. Hank decided to give in just a little.

"The deck would be perfect, uh, thanks, Markus."

He readjusted his grip on his suitcase to walk the rest of the way to the steps, open the little gate and whistle for Sumo. Even though it had been a few years, the dog still seemed to know the ropes and bounded right up. Hank doubted a second if he should follow. Back underneath the house, Markus had grabbed an extra case of bottled water and gestured with his head to the elevator. It was as clear an invitation as any. Hank shut and secured the gate again before making his way over. The elevator had been another adjustment made before Carl had moved in permanently. It was spacious. They could've had the dog in here with them and still not touch one another nor the edges. Yet Hank couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable.

"So, uh," he ventured, "how are you doing?"

Markus looked at him mildy. "I'm still doing just fine, Hank. Thank you."

"Right. Right."

A single story ride up had never felt so long.

He was grateful to step into the main reception area for some distraction. He rolled his case with him to the desk while the android branched off and disappeared into the kitchen without further comment.

"Hank! Over here." He turned towards the sound and took a few steps in the direction of the main living area. Though the familiar door curtain made of sea shells had been pinned to the side, he still had to duck a little to enter. He then saw Carl all settled in the cozy room, close by the fireplace. Both the space and the man hadn't changed much since Hank had last seen them. Carl seemed to be in good health. He sat up straight on the main three person couch, eyes sparkling happily with seeing an old friend. The fire had been lit, and Carl had added to the snug impression by wearing a bright cardigan and a scarf. The way the room was decorated gave off a similar welcoming warmth. Walls of ochre and maroon, natural and light painted wood, rugs, pillows, and various knick knacks scattered all over the space made it feel so very lived in and inviting. Hank already knew that the moment he had this place to himself, he'd be browsing the old books on the shelves and take a cozy seat either indoors or on the spacious wraparound deck. The half-read book he'd brought from home was already forgotten about.

Carl opened up his old bar globe to get the new arrival a drink. Hank made an aborted gesture towards his luggage at the reception desk.

"No, no, please, Markus will take care of that. You're here as our guest, tonight."

Hank's brief moment of hesitation was enough for the android in question to grab his stuff and carry it off. The added weight did not seem to alter his posture even a little bit. Guess it really, truly hadn't been a bother, after all. Anyway. With nothing else to do, Hank was free to sit with his friend. He leaned over for a quick peck on the cheek and then sat down beside him. "You got any juice in there?"

Carl peered inside. "You got your selection of orange, tropical or cranberry."

Hank made his choice and sat back, finally relaxing a bit after having made the journey. He patted Carl's arm in thanks. "You're looking good, by the way. The place, too. And how's Leo doing?"

The old man laughed and covered Hank's hand with his own. "I'll make sure to give him your love." His son had been the reason they'd met, just a little over ten years ago.

Before climbing the ranks, Hank had nabbed a then sixteen year old Leo for some minor shoplifting and had felt empathetic towards the Manfreds trying to deal with their family dynamic, deciding to keep up with how they'd been doing and slowly improving upon this bond throughout the years. Carl had appreciated whatever help he could get. The extra pair of eyes had proved useful when just a few years after the initial incident, Hank had recognised some troublesome tell tale signs of early drug dependence and Leo had gotten help before anything had escalated. Though Hank hadn't personally seen Leo in years, he still enjoyed acting like a lovingly overbearing uncle from time to time.

"He's all prepared for us coming over there tomorrow," Carl continued as he swirled his glass. "Apparently there was some issue with the placement of the bigger canvases, but we've discussed that on a video call this afternoon and eventually sorted it out. Markus just needs to test run the live interaction login, but that shouldn't give us any issues."

"Right, uh, the," Hank still wasn't completely up to speed with technology, even if his involvement in Cole's hobbies and homework assignments had taught him a lot. "The AI reinterpretation thing. You nervous about that? How it'll mingle with your old works?"

"It's looking promising, so far." Markus joined them, taking a seat at Carl's other side. "A good handful of locals have already reached out to ask about our safety precautions. We're expecting a high degree of audience participation, to enhance the whole experience."

"Good, that's... good. I'll make sure to check some videos afterwards, at least until you guys can bring the whole thing back to Detroit. I haven't checked if you have any type of interactive stuff for humans running on the website, right now."

Markus seemed pensive in response to that idea. Hank was awaiting his reply when he heard some scrabbling from the balcony adjacent side of the room. Both his conversation partners turned towards the source of distraction. Sumo was excitedly jumping up against the french doors, scrabbling at the glass and looking at Carl dead on. The man laughed.

"Ah, if it isn't the _real_ reason I asked for you to come! Markus, can you take us outside?"

If they'd been less closely aquainted, Carl might've asked to be shifted back into his wheelchair or disregarded the plan altogether, but since it was late and Hank was a close friend, Markus picked the man up and carried him to the outside space. Hank quickly got up to hold the door for them. He half expected he'd need to push Sumo back out as the dog would slip right into the room, but he kept his head tilted up and obediently followed Markus towards the plush looking daybeds overlooking the ocean. Markus had just set Carl down when the dog jumped up to join. Hank was the last to arrive to this party. His dog was trying his very best to fit comfortably onto Carl's lap.

"I hope you don't mind the request to keep him outside, Hank. I didn't get the chance to discuss that with our visitor, so unless you get the okay from him..."

"Not a problem." He passed Carl's drink back to him and sat down with his own. "Lots of folks have allergies nowadays, and I get that the size can be intimidating."

"It's more likely to just be a personal preference," Markus chimed in, "what with him being an android, and all."

"Oh?" Hank's hand halted in its movement. He spilled just a bit of liquid on his hand, and noticed Markus' eyes flicker towards that for the briefest of moments. He refused to acknowledge that hiccup though, and let the splash rest there. "You, uh, didn't mention that to me."

There was a beat of silence.

Then, in genuine concern: "That mean I gotta plug him in or something at night?"

Markus snickered, shook his head. Some of the tension from before eased that instant.

"If anything, this will make your task easier. We've stocked up on thirium should he need it, and we have an extensive maintenance kit on the ground level I can show you. That's only necessary in case of damage, though. Just your basic emergency amenities."

Hank nodded. He took another sip and sneakily licked the back of his hand clean. Carl kept restfully petting Sumo, who had settled down and closed his eyes.

"And the storm guarding stuff, that's also still underneath the house?"

Carl nodded. "Storm boards, energy circuits, Markus will show you all later. But for now, perhaps it's time you unpack and get settled. We're leaving at the crack of dawn and I intend to get fully caught up with your ongoings tonight. Dinner's in the oven and will be ready in - fifteen minutes or so?"

Markus checked his connection with the smart home system. "Twelve."

"Just enough time to freshen up, I'd think. We've put you up in the yellow room, mister Arkait can have his pick between the blue and white. Both have been aired out and cleaned. That needed to happen anyway, with the tourist season kicking off soon."

Hank knocked back the last few dregs of his juice before replying.

"Still think it's kinda weird he couldn't wait that tiny bit longer to come on down."

The older man laughed. "You can grill him about it yourself. I don't know why he was that insistent, but honestly, can you blame him?" His eyes wandered across the ocean view. Carl'd had this place as a personal vacation getaway for some time before deciding to open it up for tourist lodgings. Every year, he seemed to stay longer to prepare and graciously host the place. Hank suspected that in due time, Carl would sell his house in Detroit and relocate permanently. It wouldn't be the worst place to retire.

Hank got the feeling he'd be doing just fine here, these next few days.


	2. Thursday

When Hank woke up, it was to an empty house. He rolled over and checked the time - still too early. He'd have the place to himself for another few hours until the guest's arrival. He could take a moment to stretch languidly and just lie in bed. There was no immediate rush to his day. He reasoned he should revel in it, not being used to having this calm and quiet in his regular day to day life. And even if the routine had made it impossible to go right back to sleep, he could still enjoy the comfort of this bed, on holiday, by the sea. Isn't that what people did? Have a lie in, make vague plans to walk in the wind and see the sights. Fall asleep in the sand or with a book by the fire place, eat out and stare at the horizon until it's time to go back home. Eat, sleep, repeat: beach edition.

As Hank lay there desperately trying to enjoy himself, the realisation slowly seeped in: it had been some time since he'd been this alone. Just with this bright room, the melancholy shushing pull of the waves, and his own creeping thoughts for company. No child, work, or household to keep him going and stop his thoughts from straying. The man wasn't sure if he liked it. Maybe coming here had truly been a mistake. He knew he needed to busy his hands again before his mind could grow that bit too restless and catch up on him again. Before his skin would start to crawl. This was not a very promising start to his stay.

He only bothered with a quick washing up before preparing to head out. The proper meal and shower could follow after a brisk morning walk. Hank stepped out of his small ensuite and looked outside. The view from his room's bay window ran parallel with the coast line leading to the south of the island, and in the very distance he could see the outline of some structures signifying the main town. The sky was just slightly overcast. He'd probably do fine with some jeans, a shirt, and a thin sweater, especially paired with the exercise of trying to manage an overexcited and overgrown dog. He drank some water in advance and then made his way down. Despite having taken the elevator the previous day, Hank still felt more comfortable with the stairs. Carl had trusted him to take care of this place by leaving him in charge, but he didn't feel completely at ease just yet. Perhaps that'd come once he'd meet and show around the expected guest. He sure hoped it would, anyway.

Sumo's enthusiasm was ample distraction. From the moment the dog heard Hank's boots on the sand-scuffed wooden deck overhead, he'd got up and started circling the space of his kennel. Hank went in and got on his knees. They were both happy to have some company again, and with this type of weather both were excited to get reaquainted with the local scenery. Hank took a spare leash off a wall hook and clipped it to the dog's collar.

They'd been walking for a good twenty minutes before they reached the first buildings on the outskirts of Rodanthe itself. These were the older structures of the fishing village, and they were like eager fingers stretching for the sea as a gentle barrier between nature and the human settlements. The worn and weathered wood of the shacks and sand breaks blended well with the environment. Here and there they encountered a lone house slowly succumbing to the consequences of the harsh coastal life. Modern add-ons were placed in an effort to halt in the general decay. Still, the durable acrylic sidings couldn't fully cover up the holes and rips in the old wood underneath, and much of the paint had peeled right off. Hank wondered who'd opt to live here. Months of processing files on android-related issues such as steady income and housing rights did give him a slight suspicion. Just a little farther ahead, He could see more bustling near the sturdy old docks. Both people and seagulls were noisily going about their day. It seemed as though life had been this way for years and years, withstanding the close to annual nor'easters that Hank knew had passed through this place. It seemed only natural for the local vista to look like this, even with the signs of modern life steadily trickling in.

Though it was relatively early, the local fishermen had started earlier still. A couple of boats were docked and their crew was busy hauling in the catch of that morning. Hank figured he might as well make his way over and, should they be too preoccupied for a real introduction, at least show face before heading back to the Inn. He was sure word would spread soon enough, and he wanted the general impression of him to be favourable. If only to uphold Carl's good connections. He approached a group of locals who'd been trying their best to hide their curious glances towards this strange new figure. They stopped in their low murmuring speech as he drew close.

"Morning," he ventured, trying his best to keep Sumo in line. Some of the fishermen looked up and gave a friendly nod, not stopping their constant ebb and flow of moving in the fresh haul of seafood. Hank walked on, aiming to stay out of their way. He ended up closer to a more covered area, where a few rugged workers busied themselves with cleaning the fresh catch. A man in a grey cap beckoned him closer. Hank moved to stand where the man was busy cleaning what seemed to be some type of flounder.

"Hi! You've got to be Carl's friend, right?"

Hank nodded.

"He mentioned someone coming over to look after the Inn. How're you liking it so far?"

"Oh, the place is just great. Real welcoming."

The man smiled. "We like to think we are, in general. I'm Rupert, by the way."

"Hank, nice to meet ya." He gestured towards the Saint Bernard trying to shove his face in a bucket of fish waste but was being kept too close to succeed. "This other old mutt is Sumo."

Rupert's grin widened. "I'd offer you some fish, but unless you guys are in the mood for sushi..."

"We'll pass, thanks. Might run some errands today or tomorrow though, I'll be sure to pick up some of the must haves."

"That's a sound idea. And hey, if you're hungry for more, we're planning on a get together for the Taste Of The Beach event this Sunday. It's only a small feast before the real start of the season, but you and your guest are more than welcome to join. It's usually centered near the main boardwalk just up ahead." His knife slid easily through the fish while relaying this info. Hank was a little concerned for the man. He supposed this type of repetitive manual labour made it come like second nature, eventually. He still worried about distracting the worker so much he'd cut himself on the blade.

"Good of you to mention it, I'll pass that on. If we survive the storm, that is."

They continued some more small talk until Hank started feeling guilty about bothering the guy when he was clearly trying to work. He should be heading back, anyway.

"But anyway, Rupert. I'll treat you to some fried shrimp or something should I run into you on Sunday."

"Oh?" He paused for a moment before easing up. "Thanks Hank, that's very kind of you to offer."

Hank waved goodbye and then headed back to the Inn. He was pleased to think he could jot this down as having been a succesful morning, overall.

The OBX cab pulled up just shortly after two pm. Out stepped a man looking about mid thirty, quite prim, quite clean, and with just a slight droop to the set of his shoulders. He squinted against the wind which was hunting up the sand and making his neatly styled hair fan over the bright LED on his temple. He set down his small silver pilot case and confirmed his arrival before looking up at the Inn. It felt like a huge relief to have found this place when he planned on visiting the region. Something about the desolate ocean view had drawn him in due to how appropriate it seemed for his situation. Though in a way, securing this stay had been a terrifying point of no return. His international flight had been booked on a similar surge of bravery. Both these decisions had seemed necessary, like he couldn't imagine taking any other course of action, but to start on this path and actually find himself here...

Connor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was a habit he'd developed over time, but the placebo effect still seemed to have some merit. The fresh air (traces of salt, magnesium, iodine, he noted absently) really did fill him with a sense of being rejuvenated. As if he were a whole new person who could do these exciting type of things and step out into the world. Well. Into this bit of North Carolina, for a start.

The android opened his eyes again to take in his immediate environment. Directly ahead of him was a clear tunnel through the raised pier foundation that seemed to function as a covered parking spot. Other sections on this ground level seemed designated as a space holding some extra beach chairs and bicycles, an outdoor shower, a few pet care stations and kennels and what Connor recognised to be quite an extensive android maintenance zone. A locked door presumably concealed general outdoor tools and supplies.

He saw an elevator, but thought it best to introduce himself by the more formal entryway.

Walking around to the side, he located the main stairs leading up to a front door. A different set was connected to an outside seating area, and he didn't think it likely he'd make a good impression making such an informal entrance. He better not upset any human caretakers by barging in that way. He walked up the stairs to a small front porch shielded by an old fahsioned awning. The house was charming, but due to his programming, Connor couldn't help but notice the small flaws of the steadily ageing property. White paint chipping despite the well maintained wood. The steps all being just a tad creaky, though none of them in a satisfyingly similar way. A very slight yet distinct odor due to the seawater having seeped and stayed in the pores of the surface. A thin layer of dried salt on more or less everything he had a view of. He supposed this was what gave the place - he quickly checked some of the Sleepr reviews again - its "rustic, homely, small town charm".

Leaving the door unlocked was apparently part of this particular kind of appeal. Connor could walk right in. The main entrance led him into a hall painted a warm red colour. Stairs and an elevator were to his left, so he turned right, walking past the entry of a bright and busy kitchen to a reception desk. With no one in sight, Connor was free to let his eye wander across the overwhelming amount of decorations present: books, small handcrafted keychains made of clear beads, a large, colourful painting, a cork board showing a collection of old photographs and post cards, possibly from former visitors...

He could busy himself with apprasing these sourroundings, but felt apprehensive about being 'caught snooping'. He didn't want the owner of the place to come up behind him and ask what the hell he was doing. He should make contact first. Discovered a brass old call bell and pressed it curtly.

After a few more seconds of silence, he dared to call out.

"Hello?"

Nothing. The android hesitantly put down his case before sauntering back to the foot of the stairs. He couldn't hear any movement coming from above. The elevator wasn't in motion, either. Had Connor found himself all alone in this house? He briskly retreated back to the desk to ring a second time. No luck.

He dawdled a bit longer at the reception area before deciding to venture on. Surely that was ok? He'd made himself known. It wasn't too pressuring of him to go look for some staff.

Connor walked past the kitchen into what seemed to be the main common room (and he had to admit, it all did give him an immediate sense of... homeliness), but still no living soul in sight. He did, however, spot the sheer yellow curtains moving gently in the wind where one of the traditional french doors was cracked open. He crossed the room and stepped out into the sunlight. That direct ocean view was different, up here. Somehow, even being just a single story higher and still some distance removed from the point where the sand turned wet and disappeared beneath the lapping waves... there was a solitary and peaceful beauty to the scene which was deeply moving. In a way he was glad to have made it here outside the tourist season, to have this experience all to himself and unbothered by other visitors to gawk and question about him. Connor's heart lurched at the thought of getting to see a sunrise here. He registered the sudden spike of internal activity urging his thirium to flow quicker, vaguely amused at what had set this off. The occasional surge of longing was still a sensation he was getting used to, but it seemed like a good thing.

He was the first to notice the change in company on this deck, followed only just by the large dog that lifted his head, considered him stoically and then laid back down again. The man leaning on the edge of the balustrade kept his eyes trained ahead. His fingers slowly toyed with a mug he was holding. Connor couldn't get a clear look at the man's face, despite the near side view of his profile. His long-ish grey hair streaked in the wind dancing across parts of his face in a way that interfered with the android's facial recognition software.

"Excuse me?"

The man was shaken from his reverie and turned towards him. One hand came up to brush the hair back and keep it there. Connor was met with surprisingly bright blue eyes. He realised a slight redness of the surrounding skin made them even more apparent. Connor's LED indicator cycled once.

"You're... not Carl."

Hank broke the eye contact apologetically.

"And you are upset."

"What? I, no, that's, maybe I look a little flushed from the wind and all. Sorry about that. Um, let's go back in. I was just about to anyway."

Connor stepped back to give the man some space before following him into the house and all the way to the initial reception zone. He noticed this person had now squared his shoulders, looking a little taller than the somewhat melancholy slumped frame he showed before. Connor knew better than to address how the good spiritedness was a hastily applied facade. He patiently waited by his grounded case as the man shuffled behind the desk sideways and entered some pass code onto a screen. He rubbed at his eyes while peering at the info.

"Connor Arkait, staying four nights?"

"That's correct."

"Please confirm." He handed the guest a small mobile device to interconnect with and looked on curiously while Connor retracted his dermal coating until it beeped. "Checkout is at noon, sharp, though you're still free to just hang out in the communal spaces until eight pm that day."

"That won't be an issue," Connor replied, "I'll need to leave pretty early on Monday."

"Right, sure. Uh, I can give you the tour then, of the house? Unless you've already roamed the premises while I was busy spacing out. Oh God, I'm Hank, by the way. I hadn't even introduced myself. I'm taking care of the place while Carl and Markus are at their art thing in New York."

Connor smiled and clasped the offered hand. There was something endearing about this figure. "Please, lead the way."

Hank retracted his hand, shuffled back from behind the desk and led him around their current floor.

"That passage leads to Carl's private part of the house, so it's off limits to guests. You've already caught a glimpse of the living area. Feel free to come here and relax any time. If you need help to work the record player or - oh shit, I'm so sorry about that, I-"

He had to interrupt the guided tour to dash towards the Saint Bernard that had followed them both inside and was busy getting comfortable on a plush love seat over by the solid wood book racks.

Connor laughed, edging on giddily so. He stepped closer as the man crouched by the sofa and got working on trying to nudge the dog out of the way. "That's fine, I don't mind. Is he yours or Carl's?" He already suspected the answer, but was happy to hear more.

"Sumo came with me. Look, if you'd rather not have him inside the house, there's a perfectly comfortable kennel for him to stay, or if you'd be cool with him running 'round on the outside deck-"

"I'm cool with anything."

Hank gave the dog a pat, then looked back over his shoulder and nodded approvingly, smiling just enough to show a hint of teeth and the slight gap between the two front ones. Connor felt that spike of internal activity again, his thirium pump reacting to some electric signal of his CPU demanding a quicker current of data flow, stat. Huh.

Hank didn't seem to notice anything. He got back up with a slight groan before continuing on through a cozy dining area into the kitchen. Connor spent another two seconds looking at the dog, a little puzzled by his own functions, before following suit.

"We keep all android backup stuff on the ground level, though Markus did mention keeping some extra bags stocked in here somewhere..."

He started going through various cabinets. Connor stalled politely just inside the modern saloon type swinging doors and watched the man stretch and bend his way across the room before he finally discovered the packets under the main kitchen island.

"Feel free to help yourself to these whenever." He held up one of the transparent blue packs and tossed it to Connor, who was distracted and scrambled to catch it. "Hell, take some with you when you go. We've got loads of 'em and Markus insisted I make it clear you can take whatever amount you like, even if you don't have some urgent need to."

Connor felt a smile bloom across his face without consciously executing that command. He cradled the gift close. "Thank you."

Hank turned and went through the similarly decorated doors on the opposite side. They had circled back to the front hall. He bent to pick up the small amount of baggage Connor had carried in.

"Is this all you've got?" Hank tried to sound not too curious or judgemental, and almost pulled it off.

Connor only averted his eyes.

"Well, makes my job easier I suppose." He went right past the android on his way to the staircase. Connor couldn't help but take in a whiff of his scent. Rich, heady, just a little woodsy. Letting himself get caught up in the man's sudden proximity delayed the response.

"I'm fine with carrying it myself, really?"

"Already on my way. And besides, this weekend, I live to serve."

"... I suppose so."

He led the android up the stairs and towards the next floor.

"Since you're the only guest, you can have your pick between the white and the blue room. I'm holed up in yellow - sorry if you had your eyes set on that." He paused between the two open doors of the options. Connor was allowed to step in a little closer to appraise both.

Softy scuffed heart pine flooring ran across this entire storey of the house, though of a more bleached hue than he'd seen on the common level. To his left, the white room had been decorated with cream coloured wallpaper showing some kind of floral print. The bed was of a white frame work with romantic curls along the headboard. Clean white linen with an intriguing, wave-like texture covered the bed. A wooly, faded rug added more softness to the room, as did the various cream and beige coloured accessories of driftwood, shells and sea glass. A cushy window seat was tucked into the space of the room's bay window looking north, showing the sawgrass speckled dunes and lonely highway along the coast line.

The room straight ahead had a more masculine feel to it. The walls were adorned with a patterned cobalt blue wallpaper. Furniture of a deep brown wood helped ground and deepen the space. The occasional flash of brass from a lamp or old fashioned telescope added more warmth. An impressive bed of dark mahogany stood close to the sliding doors leading to a balcony. Ahead was nothing but the ocean. Connor also noted this room was a direct neighbour of the third, yellow room to his right.

"This one is quite nice," he finally settled, and stepped straight forward. 

A few hours later, Connor hesitantly made his way into the main living area of the Inn. Just beyond the open patio doors, he could see the company he was looking for. His host was seated in a wicker chair just outside, feet kicked up and attention fully consumed by the book he was holding. He had a pair of wire framed reading glasses on. To battle the slight breeze, the man had his hair tied back, though a few strands in his neck had come loose. Connor hung back to take in the scene as he felt a strange sense of peace wash gently over him. The porch was as lovingly decorated as the inside spaces were. The somewhat faded wooden finishings and mismatched furniture made the scene a charmingly rustic one. A wind chime of capiz shells and beach glass dangled in the wind. Potted plants and flowers let their leaves dance along. He could just make out the sound of a weather vane creaking, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly where it was located. And then there was that immense, calming ocean ahead. He refocused his gaze on the still unsuspecting human as he turned to the next page, rubbed at his scruff and let his hand linger by his lips. The man seemed to fit in here well. A seamless part of the overwhelming sense of nature and calm that was key to this place. Connor couldn't help but feel like an outsider having stumbled upon the scene. It was like a tableau he wished he could step into, though rationally he knew he would only interrupt it by trying to force his way in. Still. If only he could feel so at peace with the space he had dared to claim in this world.

Something wet nuzzled the palm of his hand and he couldn't hold back the surprised noise as he looked down. The dog, Sumo, was asking for attention. He absentmindedly gave him some scratches. When the android looked back up, his eyes met Hank's.

"Hey. D'you need anything?"

"Oh, no, I, just exploring."

The man nodded, turned back to his book.

Connor was not ready to end the conversation and return to his room to sit alone. Sure, he could get himself started on his actual plans, his reason for coming here... But he was hoping to stave that off until the next day. He desperately looked around to find some conversation subject to latch onto. This room, the outdoor space, the glimpse he could get of the dining room... A square painting hanging right above the fireplace caught his attention.

"That's interesting."

Hank twisted back around, examined him over the rim of his glasses. "What?"

"The," Connor vaguely pointed at the artwork to his side, "the painting. It is... something."

Hank turned his eye to the something in question. Processed this critique for a moment, then assented.

"Yeah, that's one of Markus' paintings. His very first even, I think. If I remember correctly, he deviated the same night. Been doing the whole art thing ever since."

Connor looked at it with a new, stunned type of appreciation. His own experience of awakening had not been anything like that. He wondered what it would've been like. To just melt that seamlessly into your new existence and immediately find contentment and a sense of belonging. In a way it was awe-inspiring. In a whole other way, he felt a painful stab of jealousy somewhere in his synthetic guts.

Hank spread his hands and made a face, while yelling "oh!". He shut his book, put it down, and clambered out of his seat before coming back in. Connor took a step back to let him pass. The man put a friendly hand on his forearm.

"I haven't even finished the full tour! God, I'm a poor host. Sorry about that."

"It's quite alright." The hand slid from his arm, though Connor could still pinpoint where it had clasped him. Hank now gestured outside.

"Porch. Free reign. Would recommend. The beachfront is also great, make good use of that while you're here. There's a shower and spare towels underneath the house so you can rinse off before coming back in. Yadda yadda yadda. You _have_ to see this view, though."

With that, he went past the android and back into the hall to guide him up the stairs, pointing out some more works of Markus and/or Carl on the way there. Connor followed him up to the highest storey the Inn had to offer - in the main turret that boasted the name plaque on the outside. This top level opened up into a perfect little studio space, with windows on every side and art supplies scattered all over the room. Connor was torn between taking in the soaring general view so high above the regular world, and inspecting all the small details that were flooding his senses. He figured it might be impolite to disregard the paintings and focused on those. Though some showed landscapes and the occasional still life, most of the canvases were portraits. A dark-skinned man meditating in the dunes. A redheaded woman laughing, her head thrown back. One painting in the center of the room showed a man in a wheelchair with two younger men on either side of him, holding his hands, as a constantly shimmering current ran across some key lines of the image. Connor recognised this to be the owner of the Inn, and of course everyone had grown to know what Markus looked like.

Once the android had taken this all in, his gaze shifted to one of the smaller paintings in the corner. He tilted his head, paused, then stepped closer. He caught the sound of Hank shuffling his feet behind him.

"Ah, yeah, that's, uh,"

"Is this you?"

It was striking, even despite its humble size. A dark blue painting of a figure in a storm, lightning flashing overhead and casting light and shadow on a face and bared torso. Hair slightly longer than the man wore it now, whipping fiercely in the wind, streaking across the planes and valleys of his skin. And central in this storm, the most piercing blue eyes. Connor was absolutely captivated.

"Yeah, that's, just," Hank rubbed at his nape. "That's from some time ago. When Carl did some deity themed expo and needed inspiration for-"

"Zeus."

He only hummed in agreement. The deep rumble seemed a bit like thunder. He awkwardly waited as Connor kept assessing it.

"Oh, and here's an old painting of Cole. My boy."

Relatives? Connor now tore his eyes from the blue painting to see which one Hank pointed out. A soft summery scene in the local dunes, depicting a boy about five years old. He was smiling wide. What Connor first mistook for large butterflies upon closer inspection turned out to be brightly coloured fish. They were swimming through the air, and the child was reaching out, trying to touch them. He was also in the lap of a beautiful, dark haired woman, who had her arms draped around him lovingly.

"And who is she?"

"That's Ashley, Cole's mom. We split up, but she's still like that."

Connor scrutinised the image.

"Pretty?"

"Caring."

Hank then launched into a spiel about Carl's intended symbolism behind the fish, some local story of how a ship had gotten damaged and a commercial batch of non native gourami had survived in these waters, breeding, persisting, and bringing luck should a sighting occur.

Connor was only half listening as he took a moment to process the insight on Hank's former wife. Hm.

He couldn't help but turn back to the painting in the corner.

"Are you not still... like that?"

Hank burst out into a laugh. Connor looked back in confusion as the man gestured up and down his body with one eyebrow cocked. The android frowned. His LED flickered just once, showing his slight embarassment at being laughed at for asking. "I meant more like... the energy."

Hank shook his head, but he was still smiling. He joined Connor and stepped a little closer to get a better view of the art in question. Connor did not step back. Kept his eyes now focused on the man's face as he studied this portrait of his younger self. The eyes were captured perfectly right.

"I dont know..." His voice seemed a little weary in a way Connor couldn't exactly place. "I'd like to think I've tempered down a bit at this point. I've lived through some stuff. Seen things. It'll take some of the fire outta you... But that's fine. You grow, become a different person. Get some things right, some wrong, you make your goals and you make mistakes... Be thankful for what you were lucky enough to get away with and forget about what you want."

"What _do_ you want?" The question slipped out, eagerly.

"Hm?" The man turned his head just slightly.

"I mean, you're not dead yet," Connor reasoned. "Might not be for another thirty, forty years. Or I guess it could all be over tomorrow, just like that."

"Thanks." Hank snorted.

"You're welcome. But either way though, wouldn't it be a shame either way? To die before having lived to the fullest, or continue sitting on the fence without daring to change, all those years?"

Hank seemed a bit lost as for what to do with all that getting dumped on him so suddenly.

"Seems like you..." he tried, "like you've spent some time worrying about that, yourself."

Connor smiled, though it bordered on a slightly pained grin. Partly, it did feel good to finally voice this to someone. He was a bit desperate to finally vent this, especially to a person who had started to intrigue him and to boot, was even showing an honest willingness to listen. "Ever since I've been given this chance, since I gained a life of my own, actual free will... To be honest, I've been at a loss as for what to do with it."

Some time during this unraveling, Hank had turned fully towards him. It only now hit Connor how close they were standing to each other.

"And do you... want?"

"I..."

Connor looked up into those lightning eyes. He wasn't sure about when was the last time he'd been this close to a human. The confrontation he'd found himself in seemed excitedly _carnal_. The intimacy of the private room, so isolated from everything else, and then to be in such incredibly close proximity to this living, breathing person whose eyes seemed to gaze straight into Connor's deepest thoughts while they both stood there in a tense moment of silence. Maybe only then did it truly sink in how alone they were, together. Hearing, closely seeing that soft in- and exhale, feeling the body heat radiating of this man who - Connor was shocked but elated to discover - was studying him in a similar way. Intensely, earnestly, but without any clear goal or rush to the observation. Simply taking it all in with pure, undivided attention. Somewhere deep within his central chest cavity, Connor felt the whirr of his fans kick up in an effort to cool down his internal hardware.

The moment fizzled out when Hank's pants started buzzing. He bent his head, took a step back, and fished the phone from his pocket. Connor barely noticed how he minorly swayed in the same direction. As if still tethered and pulled along with him.

Hank cleared his throat. "Yeah? Hey Ash, what's up. How're things going?"

Connor, not sure what to do with himself, just kept looking at this man. Specifically his mouth, as it moved to form more words.

"I'd love to, put him on."

His attention flicked back to Connor for a second before he averted his eyes again. A smile lit up in response to hearing his child's voice on the line.

"Hey, bug! Yeah, same as ever. I miss you, though. Miss takin' you out on the paddle board 'n' stuff. Remem- yeah, yeaaah."

He kept nodding along to whatever Cole was saying in turn. Then laughed, brighter than Connor had seen him do so far. It made that weird feeling reappear, of wanting to participate but knowing he had no rightful place in any of this. Perhaps it was better to leave.

The android awkwardly staggered his way past Hank, who was now fully engrossed in the phone conversation. Connor couldn't blame him, though. It made sense for the man to want to hear from these people. Though the logic was sound, it still kind of stung. Connor waved and pointed at the stairs. Hank just nodded at him, smiling over something he was hearing. Connor simply made his retreat, chiding himself for being so stupid to want.

Only about an hour later, Hank was rolling up his sleeves to get to making dinner. Cooking when it was only for himself seemed excessive and he felt like maybe he should just settle for some half assed sandwich or instant meal, but Carl had insisted he make use of the kitchen and the produce they kept in stock. He suspected some of their perishables in the fridge had been put there especially to nudge him into using them before they went bad. He figured he might as well please Carl and Markus by making them succeed in their setup. So here he was, hair and sleeves out of the way, browsing the various cupboards. The sound of a Dinah Washington record drifting in from the other room as he gathered ingredients. He nearly dropped them when he didn't hear Connor approach and instead was suddenly faced with the polite figure lingering by the entrance. He seemed hesitant to even speak until Hank had acknowledged his existence.

"Hi."

"Hello."

"... You wanna come in?"

"Yes, thank you."

The android gingerly stepped closer and let the doors behind him swing back into place. His view swooped around the kitchen again, the swirly wallpaper and matching turquoise cabinets, the utensils hanging from the ceiling and wall, the spice rack, the photographs stuck to the old-fashioned refrigerator. He finally settled on staring at his host again, who was standing by the kitchen island, looking just a little confused.

Hank put the handful of fresh produce down and straightened out his apron.

"I hope the room is all to your liking," he tried.

"Yes, thank you."

A stretched out silence.

Connor continued, "I enjoy the decorations, the artwork and whatnot."

"Sure."

They both just nodded for a while.

"So is there like... anything you need from me right now? I'm kind of, you know," Hank made a vague gesture at the collection of ingredients on the countertop.

"No, I was just feeling idle. Don't get me wrong, the view is incredible, but my senses could use some more stimulation."

"Right."

"So. Can I be of any help down here?"

Hank's gaze flickered from the deep brown eyes to the clearly displayed LED, and the slight panic at trying to navigate equality in the situation surged right back up. He was the host, and this meal was only for him, so why would the android offer to... was he some type of domestic assistant, before? Would it be rude to bring that up? Then again, would he react this befuddled if the offer had come from another human? What would he say then?

"I mean, only if you want to? Be my guest."

Connor nodded and walked towards the sink on the right side of the room as he rolled up his sleeves. Hank put down his ingredients and was momentarily distracted by the way the android washed his hands. Thoroughly. Including the backs of his hands and up his forearms. Hank mused he had never seen Markus do it that way. He diverted his attention back to his potatoes while the android finished up.

"So... You done much cooking before?" He was not prying, right?

"I'm properly equipped to. Just give me a task and we'll make it work."

Though the minds of both kept wandering back to the moment of near electric suspense there had been in the top room atelier, neither of them touched on it while prepping Hank's dinner. On occasion their bodies came close as one or the other needed to reach for something, but this passing was always kept short. Only once did their hands bump together, met with an awkward laugh. They stuck to some light conversation, talk of the weather and local sightseeing options as they navigated the kitchen and got more in tune with working together. In practically no time at all, the oven dish loaded with chicken and vegetables was ready to be slid into the oven. Hank insisted he could tackle the cleanup alone, already grateful for the help he'd gotten from someone who wouldn't even be able to enjoy the fruits of their mutual labour. Connor, reluctant to leave, brought in a chair from the adjoining dining room to sit at the central island. After a beat, he went back for another, and put it close to his. He patiently took a seat as Hank dunked his cutting board scraps into a small compost vat. This is when Sumo decided to come and check out the commotion. Hank crouched down in response.

"Hey, buddy," he laughed, "you done napping?"

The dog nuzzled at his owner's hands, wanting to be petted and maybe sniffing some remnants of the meal that was just slid into the oven. Hank got back up to fetch the dog a spare carrot. Only after having done this did he notice the android looking at him expectantly with a second chair pulled up to the central counter. To be honest, Hank was ready to maybe sink into one of the couches until his food was done, but to turn down the gesture just while they were on somewhat of a roll...

"Thanks, Connor." He grabbed the back of the chair and pulled it a little closer to himself before sitting down. Sumo followed and plunked down in the ample space between the two. Connor somewhat hesitantly reached out a hand, looked up to Hank for permission. The man smiled back at him, encouragingly. So Connor felt free to relish it. The fur was warm, thick and soft. Burying his fingers in it was a pleasant sensation.

They shared a subdued and companionable silence as time went by, just sitting in the kitchen together even after the dog grew weary of the petting and moved to lie at a slight distance from them. After a few more minutes, the record from the other room reached its end, prompting Hank to get up and go change it for a slightly more upbeat choice. For a moment, Connor was painfully struck by the idea that he man might not return, preferring some private space and opting to stay in the other room. He hadn't even fully processed the thought before the man passed back through the swinging doors. It was a stupidly immense relief not to be rejected. Not again.

Connor looked back into those eyes as the man returned to sit by his side: brown meeting blue, steady and secure. Was this just an internal feeling, or had something shifted in the present atmosphere? Now that Hank had willingly recommitted himself to just sitting here, with him? Or was that only to monitor the food as it cooked? Was this the right moment to bring up their earlier subject of conversation? Would it even be appropriate to do so at all?

Before Connor could settle on a course of way, the timer went off. Hank rose from his chair to check on dinner. Sumo had curled up and fallen asleep on one of the non slip mats by the counters, so he had to carefully step over him. Connor was still trying to figure something out. His eyes stayed transfixed on the man as he made his way through the kitchen, getting a plate, cutlery, everything he needed. As he was pouring himself a drink by the fridge, he looked back at the android, surprised to see he didn't need to call for his attention.

"Can I get you anything?"

"I have everything I need, thank you."

"Okay. Great."

Hank debated if he should take this meal to the dining area, his private room, or what. He looked back to his conversational partner, who remained seated at the island in the center of the room and was looking at him contently. He might as well stay. He could recognise that shy and timid longing for some human contact. Or inhuman. Intra, whatever. The draw of some companionship, rather than to be left experiencing an evening all alone.

So he stepped back to his vacated seat and set his plate down. The android emitted a pleased whirr.

Hank cut into his chicken and swirled it in the sauce. Connor looked on curiously as he took his first bite.

"Good?"

"Mhmm."

He was left to eat the next few minutes in a comfortable silence. The android let his attention roam across the space, drifting from the sleeping dog, past some jars on the countertop, to the movement of Hank's hands and to his own hands, resting in his lap. He picked at one of his nails before restarting the conversation.

"I hope Cole is doing well."

Hank smiled, lowered his fork.

"Oh yeah, he's living it up with his mom and her boyfriend. They're making good use of the holiday, plan on going to some pirate type amusement park this weekend."

"That sounds like fun."

Hank hummed, took another bite. That seemed to conclude the subject for now, which puzzled Connor. Was it wrong to ask about this family dynamic? Perhaps it would be safer to ask about the man's professional life. Connor checked his records again. Hank Anderson, a Lieutenant serving the Detroit City Police Department, currently employed at their central station, as he had been for just over thirty years. He could cross reference this with other search results of the man's name, detailing more specific involvements and general development over the year. Outside of the professional realm, though, there wasn't much to be found on Hank. Some captioned photos from other people's social media relating to social outings, a group holiday, an old basketball team. He wanted to know more about those things. The details of a personal life.

"So," he eventually tried, after Hank had chewed his way through another third or so of his meal. "I understand you have a career in the Detroit Police Department?"

The man snorted, turned to him with clear mirth in his eyes. "You makin' small talk?"

"Well, I- yes?" It was a foot in the door, honestly.

Hank took a sip of his water, let that admission rest for a moment. Then, decided to humour his company.

"Yeah, for about thirty years now. The work's decent. Not as intensive or dangerous as it used to be, in my current position. There's plenty of field work, but I mainly keep the others in check, and I gotta process lots of paperwork as well."

Connor laughed. The sound bubbled up from within spontaneously as he remembered what his own line of duty had been like. "And thus you'll 'politely request' some poor PM700 to help lighten that load."

Hank paused, perplexed. Then couldn't help but burst out laughing, too.

"I mean, before last November, yeah," he admitted, shaking his head, "but ever since then, I don't feel like I should even ask for a cup of coffee from those things. Uh, I mean, police, women. Officers." He grimaced in pain of the mixup before that slowly melted into puzzlement. "But what do you know about that office culture?"

"I- might've had some experience in a similar field of police work."

The man leaned back in his seat and looked Connor steady in the eye. It told the android all he needed to know. Not only was he assessing him physically - a thought that excited Connor, something he couldn't nor want to fight. But this man understood that police issued androids had standard access to an extensive database engrained in their software. Ah.

"So you must know all about me already."

Connor hesitated briefly. "I figured it would be best to feign ignorance about having access to any unsolicited information. Considering the hookup to an extensive search engine is not a customary feature for most models, I worried it could be off-putting. I didn't mean to be deceitful."

"Well."

Hank shifted the last bits of food around on his plate. If he was put off, he was hiding it well.

"You wanna even the playing field and tell me about you?"

Connor looked up, surprised. The man's eyes met his. He couldn't quite recall the last time a human had asked about his background. Deviation had made permanent memory storage more prone to emotional bias and incomplete preservation. He was quite sure no one had ever shown interest.

"Well." He straightened up a little. "I am an RK800, commissioned for specialised police assistance in handling android communication. Especially in the last fall season, that job developed some unexpected hurdles to navigate. I tried my best to comply with the orders I was given, but as you might imagine-"

With no precedent to explaining what'd happened, he wasn't quite sure how to continue. How to summarise the events he had seen and things he'd been put through as a cog in the machine, unable to refuse cooperation. For a long time, not even thinking there was anything wrong with his actions. Not even thinking at all. Seeing his whole involvement in other androids' lives as only a neat little mental checklist for him to complete, not busying himself with what happened to those objects after a successful termination of his mission. How should he summarise this in hindsight. While trying to have a pleasant conversation with a man who had deliberately asked, alone together in a small kitchen by the sea.

"I broke under the pressure, after a while. Made a career change where I could put those perfectly engineered abilities to better use."

Hank nodded. Put his cutlery down, but didnt remove the empty plate or divert his attention anywhere else. He stayed seated, elbows on the table and leaning towards the android in genuine interest of what he was willing to share.

"I'm happy to say surgery has been a more fulfilling path."

"Oh shit!" His eyebrows rose. "On other androids?"

Connor smiled indulgently. The repair and replacement of biocomponents was a far more clinical, detached process to go through. No pre- or aftercare in the procedure whatsoever. Even after the mass deviations of the past winter, those facilities were generally still more akin to a cold and impersonal mechanic workshop than anything approaching the safe, cocooning feel of a hospital.

"On humans. I was approved to synchronise myself with the necessary training algorithms as well as theoretical knowledge on biology, chemistry, all requirements downloaded in one hefty update."

"Wow. Just like that, huh."

Though Connor hadn't been eating, it felt as though some kind of pressure callously squeezed the inner conduits in the very core of his being. "Just like that."

Hank shook his head again, in disbelieving awe.

"That's incredible. You're doing some great things with your time."

"To be fair, I _have_ taken some time off for the moment. I'll be on my way to Ecuador after the weekend, to aid in humanitarian relief."

Hank guffawed at that. It startled Connor, who looked at him in confusion. The man put a hand on his shoulder to try and alleviate the worried expression on the android's face.

"Okay, kid, now I really feel outshined. Maybe I should consider a career switch too, huh, make some real progress in the grand scheme of things."

Connor softened. With the way Hank spoke of his child, it seemed like he had done some tangible good in the world, already. And he, himself, was definitely not deserving of this type of praise. Despite the objectively good actions he had been driven to, the android knew deep down he was a complete fraud.

"I'll take you with me, then."

"Great, let's pack and go, right now."

Connor averted his eyes again. "No, not right now. There are some things I need to do, first."

Hank seemed at odds as to what to do with the sudden shift in the mood. He shook the android's shoulder, squeezed gently before letting go in what he hoped was somewhat of a comforting gesture. This person was much too young to have anything weigh on him. The offer had only been a joke, anyway.

"Alright then. That's okay."

Connor retreated to his room shortly thereafter. He was frustrated with himself, his inability to keep up the facade. It felt like some indecent and shameful wish even if it stayed unspoken, but sometimes he missed the cold and uncaring status he'd had before gaining this personhood. Being like this was messy and complicated. He missed the clear cut satisfaction of black and white, problem and solution, without an emotional attachment to either of those. Perhaps underlying was more of a disappointment at having been given a new chance, only to constantly screw things up over and over again. He loosened the top few buttons of his dress shirt before stepping out onto the private balcony connected to his room to try and get some fresh air.

The effect was small, but noticeable. Even if it was a placebo, and even if he was perfectly aware of this, it still helped him regulate his mental systems and the stress they were causing him.

He sighed, in tandem with the calm rustling of the ocean. Though this evening had been intimately pleasant and fulfilling, he wished he could've opened up more. Even after his initial ramble in the art room, there were still things he'd been unable to voice. They were hard to fully realise for himself, to be honest. But Connor longed to connect. He sensed such a strange magnetic pull to this man he'd just met without any logical processing behind it, and couldn't figure out how to navigate those pressing feelings without ruining what little progress he had achieved.

It was all fine to paint this picture, be perceived as if the career switch had been some noble decision to make a change. In truth, it had been due to two motivators: cowardice and guilt. Not only had the whole system been flawed, he as a prototype had been an active part in serving it. Thoughtlessly pursuing and ending all offenders. The complete overturn into human healthcare hadn't just been to improve some abstract general concept of the society he had found himself part of. It had become an endless pursuit to make right the horrible incidents he was personally responsible for. But no matter how many people he'd saved, the long evaporated thirium was like a permanent ink stain splattered across his arms. The choice for surgery had been one of shame. It meant not seeing people until they were unconscious, not needing to apply some manipulative conversation skills to try and complete a mental check list. Clean cut and impersonal. No superfluous communicating, no hidden motivation or control in pushing someone one way or another. Only music, a focused team, and the single goal of making the operation a success. And that's all.

Except even _that_ had been too much to ask of him. Once one of Cyberlife's proudest achievements, now surely a serial number forever marked in their bad books. He wanted to believe this plan to follow his superior to Ecuador was a step in the right direction, but wasn't this too, tainted with a selfish desire to run away and not face repercussions for a while? And yet, he had decided to make this stop in between and do exactly that... What a mess.

Below him, a door opened and the large Saint Bernard bounded onto the wraparound deck. His owner followed at a sauntering pace, holding a mug of something warm. Connor sighed. He did enjoy being here though, in this moment. He liked the place. He liked the company. Even if he still needed to learn how to navigate interpersonal contact and worried about messing that up sometimes. Even though the android was just quietly passing through for the weekend and needed to stay reserved so as to not lose his grip on things completely... it did feel nice to be tethered and briefly, to dream.

He softly heard Hank sigh on the lower deck.

Though the sun had long set behind them, both people stayed on their balconies for some time, just staring ahead at the gentle and unrelenting rush and pull of the ocean. 


	3. Friday

The next morning, Connor was the first one up. This inaugural night at the Inn had gone well. After the events of the previous evening he'd undressed and gone straight to bed, closing his eyes and switching to standby till the alert from his timer went off. He'd set it a little early today for a reason, and while still in bed, turned his face to the side. The pale and cloud-softened light filtered into the room, unobstructed by the dark curtains he'd never bothered to close. The sun was estimated to rise in about fourty-five minutes. Connor made the few feet over to the sliding door and stepped outside to be met with the cool breeze and gentle sounds of the ocean. He took a deep breath in. Today was going to be a lot, regardless of exactly how its events would unfold. But it was still way too early to pay visit to a human, so for now he could just take his time to mentally prepare himself for that meeting. It felt good to get grounded in a moment of peace. He closed his eyes and let the sensations wash over him as all functions trickled back online. With them came the request he'd gotten a few weeks ago. It was only a short message, and Connor had read it so often he'd come to know it by heart even without having to access that info consciously.

_I would like to talk to you in person. This is very important to me. Please._

Attached, the coordinates of a private residence just over half an hour's walk from Connor's current location. He opened his eyes again, stared blankly at the tide in an effort not to overheat. To be contacted at all had been a shock to his system, but that final plea puzzled him most of all. It was a call to an emotional core he felt uncomfortably disconnected from. By using this one word, the sender had placed himself in a position below this android, asking for admission and understanding. As if Connor had the power in this dynamic. It was off-kiltering. He needed to commit to this meeting and figure out where the two of them stood.

While thinking about this, he watched the sky melt from a pale blueish grey into a timid blushing orange in anticipation of dawn. The sun then started to rise in a gentle glow, bathing the vista in a wash of colour. Connor took it all in, the shimmer of the waves, the golden ridges which appeared in the sand, the stark lines of light and dark the balcony railing drew on his naked skin. He gazed down at himself and wondered. Was this inappropriate? Ever since gaining his independence, his real self consciousness, it had been a strange question to navigate. Pre-awakening, a nude android had merely been an appliance in one of its more basic forms. Perhaps a bit untasteful due to its humanoid appearance, but more a joke than a genuine affront to people. However, now that he had gained personhood - and some anatomical updates, a while after - his stark nudity had more deliberate implications. And though some humans did sometimes partake in public nudism, to be spotted on his private deck might still be a shock to the casual passerby. Connor decided to keep an eye out, scanning the uninterrupted beachfront in all directions.

He couldn't help but be drawn back to the place where Hank had stood the previous night, and looked down at that exact same spot by the hanging plant. He mused on his attraction to the man. Maybe it was just a byproduct of his newly unlocked capacities. He was still struggling with what it meant to be a person, to have the freedom to make choices pertaining to the further course of his life. To develop and connect with other androids and with humans.

The decision to equip sexual biocomponents had come only a few weeks after his cognitive deviation. Some experimenting on his own and with others (humans and androids alike) had ensued. It was exactly because of this that Connor couldn't exactly pinpoint why he felt so disoriented in his attraction to this man - why he seemed intriguing both on a physical and a deeper level. The android could appropriately recognise and value Hank as a 'type' of person he was sexually drawn to. But by now, he'd learned how to handle a fling like that just fine. He'd had plenty of hands-on experience, even if the encounters had been impersonal and purely focused on chasing pleasure. He had become rather well-acquainted with the whole sex thing. So why was he so incrediby drawn to this one person in particular? Was there a reason at all?

He imagined what he would do if Hank was down there, right now. Standing by the railing at the edge of the deck, overlooking the sea and the rising sun with a cup of coffee, perhaps in his sleepwear and his hair still a tousled mess. He could easily picture the current of excited tension he'd experience in the scenario. He'd stare at the back of that head, the wide set of shoulders, impressive frame. Would the man perhaps hear something and turn around, turn _around_ , glance up and see Connor contemplating him already? What would his reaction be? Indifference at the facade of dermal coating on chassis? Shocked retreat out of his line of sight? Or a slow and approving, heated gaze, dragging itself up and down the exposed body, idling on the edge of appreciating endlessly or aching to break that as to bolt upstairs and commence a closer examination.

Could the man recognise his persoonhood and in addition, desire both the surface and the core?

He heard a window open around the corner, on the south facing side of the house. Connor had been on this balcony for close to two hours. Perhaps he could stay a bit longer. Wait for his host to go downstairs for breakfast and wait another hour, two, three, four, eventually he would step onto that deck, see the android and break open Schrödinger's box. Possibly Pandora's.

Connor could discern the sound of footsteps in the hall, making their way down to the common floor. He turned his face up to the sun, closed his eyes, breathed in that feeling of fresh possibilities one last time. He let his hands slip from the railing as he turned back in to get dressed.

Connor figured he might as well get this over with. He asked Hank if he could walk the dog, thinking then at least he wouldn't have to go alone. The man agreed to this easily enough. He could keep himself occupied with breakfast, using some leftovers from the night before.

It was invigorating to Connor to jog down the beach for the first time. Though he didn't need the exercise to keep his physique or stamina, he'd found that the discipline of steady daily running helped him feel single-mindedly driven and focused. He could probably run for hours, his body moving like an unrelenting engine. The resistance of the sand, the crashing waves, and the equally excited dog by his side were a welcome new addition to the routine. He enjoyed this continuous state for as long as he could until he had to turn away from the water and head for the more residential area of Rodanthe.

At a steady pace, he went past the beach homes into the slightly more densely built centre with its stores and smaller homes. While the houses closer to the beach had seemed a little worse for wear, the centre seemed a lot more modernised and cleaned up. Former poverty was only betrayed by the occasional weathered old rockers on the porch or discarded building materials and debris in a front yard. He encountered the odd passerby and politely waved at them every time, making sure to keep the Saint Bernard close. Much to his surprise, Connor detected a lot more androids than he'd expected in this type of town. Most of them had decided to take out their LEDs, and he felt weirdly exposed when he noticed a fellow android pay attention to his. Humans seemed wary of him too, though Connor did consider the possibility of that only being his own paranoia influencing the way he processed input and meaning. He kept running. It was a good excuse to not stay and make friendly with the locals. Soon enough the rumours would spread and they'd start to hate him, either way. He was certain at the very least the other androids he'd run into had already identified this intruder and could piece together his exact reason for coming here.

As the android and dog kept running, the lots gradually grew larger and more spread out from one another. He made his way further south and to the western edge of the island, which was much greener than the east side facing the ocean. Though the grass and shrubs seemed still recovering from winter, some maritime oaks and evergreens added to the sense of luxurious privacy these lots exuded. Connor ran past a few restaurants, boat rentals and a somewhat forlorn looking gas station before he got the notification.

According to his internal navigation, he was now really honing in on his destination. He looked up to check an oncoming sign for a visual confirmation and then turned into it: the street where mr. Kamski lived.

His steady pace remained the same, though the android couldn't help but detect the small hiccup in his joints. As if suddenly, the sand had crept up in there and was grating against the smooth segments, giving resistance and wanting to grind him to a halt. He could scan his systems and knew they were running perfectly. It was merely a psychological bug getting in his way.

The brief message from Kamski had been simultaneously both a complete surprise and the second shoe Connor had been anticipating to drop. It had been early January when he became reconnected with his creators in a weird twist of fate. Of course, he hadn't been in direct contact with mr. Kamski himself at that time. Just one of the mistakes he had made on that horrible day. Perhaps, if he'd at least tackled that aftermath better, chances are he wouldn't have found himself here today, trying to gain a perspective on where he stood and how to amend things with the people he'd caused damage...

Connor slowed to a halt as he got to the house. It was one of the sleeker, more modern styled homes on the block, and some distance away from the hardened main street. Though, like many of the surrounding buildings, also made of wood, these slats were varnished with an austere black finish. There was a distinct lack of windows, save for a slim full height pane siding the front door. Connor assumed there were more windows on the other side, overlooking the Pamlico Sound. Perhaps even a private pier or bit of sand away from the more commercial attractions.

Before he could walk up the slight incline leading to the front door, a man appeared from the side of the structure, wiping his hands on a rag and walking towards a smaller outbuilding. He stilled, looked the unexpected guest up and down, and then squared his shoulders in a more defensive posture. Connor consciously responded by shifting his balance to one leg as to appear more casual. On the inside, data was coursing through his veins. Both the rag and the man's hands still held smudges of a familiar vibrant blue. The man glanced back at the house before stepping closer and addressing Connor.

"... Yeah? What do you want?"

The youngest of the two Reed brothers - Gavin. Even without checking his internal database, the physical resemblance was an obvious giveaway.

"Good morning," was the reply, aimed to appease.

He saw the man's attention flit to his LED and back, and Connor tried his best to keep it balanced on a steady blue. When the moment stretched, he turned his head to the dog at his side, subtly obscuring the indicator altogether.

"Might I bother you for some clean drinking water? I'm in no need, but since we've been exercisng for a while..."

After brief hesitation, the man obliged. It was difficult to gauge his sentiments towards androids - venomous and destructive hatred, general dislike, disinterest, or just a vague apprehension - either way, some elements of this first impression did not bode well. But at least towards dogs he could garner up some compassion. Connor hoped this was a good sign. To further defuse the situation and improve his chances of gaining trust, the android stayed relaxed and in place as the man got a hose and bucket from the nearby shed. He made sure to thank him as the dog slobbered up the clean, refreshing water. Gavin still squinted at him in distrust. Might as well get to the core of the matter.

"Is mr. Elijah Kamski at home?"

The man narrowed his eyes. "What do you want with him. How did you even find out he lives here."

"He asked for me to come."

The man bared his teeth in a snide grimace. "Yeah, right. Why would he choose to meet with some android?"

Connor's internal circuits whirred defensively. "Sir, I'm not just any android. My name is Connor Arkait. I was in charge of the operating team that night, it was us who worked on mis-"

The man threw the hose at him with a quick snap of his arm. The object flopped wet against Connor's torso before dropping to the ground. It didn't hurt even a little bit, but the fact that something had been thrown at him at all was more of a shock than the actual impact had been. Connor looked down at himself, astonished. While his shirt had stayed perfectly dry during the entirety of his run, there was now a messy splash to the side of his general stomach area. It was strangely humiliating to be put in his place like this. He looked back up at Gavin as he now stepped right into his personal space. The guy seemed furious.

"You better get the _fuck_ outta here before I rip you apart," he grit out.

Something inside Connor stuttered. "Sir, I understand your aversion to my presence here, but I assure you that mr. Kamski himself-"

He got shoved hard enough to stumble and crash to the ground. It startled him too much to even properly place his hands, so the android fell flat on his back in the dirt. As he saw the man move closer again, Connor's senses caught up and predicted exactly where the incoming kick would land, as well as how best to block and destabilise the attack.

Within a microsecond, he cancelled the automatic defense command.

The man stalked up to his side and a steel toed boot hit Connor in the side of his torso, hard. He acutely felt the affected zone of his chassis crack and splinter under its synthetic cover. Connor wheezed at the impact and grimaced, drawing in on himself. Red-lettered warnings cropped up in his visual field, and a sensor emulating physical distress marked the damaged area. It was pain, of a sort, and it bled into his lungs with a burn. He looked up at the seething Gavin still leering over him, who was gearing up for a second kick to the center of his sternum. There was a raging disgust in his eyes. How dare this low life android show up on this private and peaceful bit of property, after the hurt he had caused? After failing these people, first by breaking from the one task they'd designed him for, then by faulting in the new duty he had callously assumed for himself? How could he expect to be forgiven for any of it? He had failed them both as a machine and as a newly deviated life form. Perhaps, if he would let this man work out his justified fury at seeing him at this place, he could at least get one thing right. He could at least be a step in the process of grief for this one person. Connor opened himself up to it. He understood that this was exactly what he deserved. He tried to not be a coward and turn away from it, again. He let his limbs fall loose, staying willingly compliant and vulnerable in the dirt.

Before the man could land the blow, he was scared off by the Saint Bernard that had quickly slipped its way between the two figures and was barking forcefully. The man drew back. Connor stayed where he belonged.

Still angry but furious knowing he couldn't get aggressive, the man spit at him instead.

"Mr. Kamski!? Can you even still call him that, now that she- now that _you_ -"

The dog reacted to the motion of Gavin jolting forward before he could get that second kick in and blocked the path with another agitated bark. Connor hadn't so much as flinched. He knew the man had intended to break his face, next.

Instead, he had to turn away and let out a roar, kicking up dirt and gravel as he stormed back to the bucket. Connor felt another wave of guilt overtake him for causing this scene. Though the next property was a respectable distance off, perhaps the neighbours would catch a glimpse and think ill of Gavin, causing damage to his reputation with them. Connor righted himself on his elbows, still leaning back as he watched the man return.

Gavin threw the bucket. Though it landed over a foot away from the android, his upper body got fully drenched in the mixture of water and dog slobber. He scrambled for Sumo's leash and kept a firm grip on it, keeping the dog from attacking. The human barely seemed to notice. He was still solely focused on that emotionless figure sprawled out in the dirt.

"Leave! Get the _fuck_ out!"

Connor reluctantly stood, bringing up a hand to feel where his side had caved in a bit.

"Will you please tell him I stopped by?"

In a flash, the man picked up a rock and hurled it. Connor let it strike him in the shoulder. The dog was still pulling at the leash, frantically trying to get to the man, but Connor held him back.

"Fucking go, no one wants you here! The world is worse with you in it, you broken piece of-"

At that, Connor turned and walked away. He should at least not defy these brothers any further. He should at least lend them that grace. Sumo seemed confused to be averted and walking back in the direction they came from, but with enough pent up energy and need to walk that off to follow this lead either way. Connor kept his vision fixed ahead, not looking anywhere but the road he was headed, until he was back at the corner and turned out of sight.

He hadn't noticed the pale contour of someone watching from behind the glass.

After an extensive breakfast, Hank was ready to head out. He wanted to get some shopping done before the storm would hit, which was expected over the course of the next day. Markus had pointed out where they kept some spare bicycles, and Hank figured he might as well make use of them. Once he had cleared up the kitchen, he donned his usual coat and added a beanie both for warmth and to keep the hair out of his face. He double checked the smart house registration to see if Connor would be able to log in, should the android be the first to return. Then the man stepped down to the covered space underneath the Inn to look for his transport.

When Hank arrived at the town center, he'd worked up a bit of a sweat. The beanie came straight off and he unzipped his jacket. Even some distance from the water, the cutting breeze was a welcome way of helping him cool off. He raised a hand in greeting at some locals who were loitering outside the building he'd pulled up to, and they copied his gesture, though they did keep looking at this stranger with vague interest. He graciously ignored this scrutiny and headed for the place he had in mind, noting that it had changed a bit since his last visit. The exterior had gotten a fresh coat of paint. The old rain gutter had been fitted with clip-on lights. Another addition were the 24/7 vending machines near the entrance; displaying small tubs of bait and tackle or various drinks (the beers needed restocking), and then one slimmer device which sold emergency patchup items for androids. Hank took a mental note of this point of resources as he went in.

The iside of the place looked much the same. It was a small and cluttered general store selling all types of fishing gear, produce, non-foods, and even a small collection of souvenirs. Much like the town in general, it seemed like an old building, though it had been somewhat patched up and added to as newer technology had developed over the years. The wooden floors were scuffed and faded by decades of sandy boot soles. A large ceiling fan collected dust overhead, one solitary fly paper strip hanging down. Hank was just eyeing up some of the novelty key chains when he heard the shopkeeper call for him.

"Hank? Is that you?"

He turned towards her and smiled. "Kara."

The woman stepped closer for a brief hug. She then looked him up and down, nodding in approval.

"You look good." She concluded. "Markus said you might drop by, since you'd be taking care of the Inn while they were off to New York."

"Well, here I am," Hank agreed with her, smiling. "And _you_ look good, too."

Kara laughed. "Like I haven't aged a day, I'm sure."

"Hank!'

Before he could turn around, two arms at roughly child-height clapped around his torso as Alice smashed straight into his back. Kara stoically put a hand on Hanks sternum which stopped him from stumbling forward too hard.

He hadn't seen the girl since early December. There'd been some investigation concerning Todd Williams, their former owner, and the contradictory claims he'd made regarding the abuse he'd suffered from Kara. Back then there hadn't been much public awareness on the deviating yet and people had still been perfectly in their right to damage their own property. Which became a problem when the property showed reluctance or started hitting back. Most people then indignantly filed a complaint to Cyberlife on their product malfunctioning, which typically turned into a debate on the many disclaimers of correct usage. This newly confirmed element of personal conscious thought and motive changed those rules. With the uncertainty of when any individual android's development was started or completed, and without a set precedent of android rights, it became difficult to say whether any self-defense was justified. Suffice to say cases like theirs had been difficult to navigate. Some of the dads working at the precinct including Hank, Chris and Captain Fowler himself, had distracted and comforted Alice during the long interviews Kara'd had to go through. It had been immensely rewarding to see her grow more at ease with masculine energies. Though the contact had been relatively short, it had made a mutually lasting impression.

"Hey, bean, how're you doing? You helping your mom 'round the shop?"

The child twisted around to his front.

"She said children shouldn't work and I should leave it all to Luther. But I stacked a whole pyramid of cans this morning, there-"

She pointed out a wonky looking tower of citrus drinks. Hank nodded in approval. "Wow!"

He then glanced at Kara. "So you found him? He's here?"

She smiled. "Markus did. He'd been apprehended on his way to the border, then turned back to Jericho hoping they'd have a way to contact us... If it hadn't been for Markus securing this job for me, maybe we would've missed each other again."

"And how is the job, by the way?"

She sighed, relieved. "Good. It's quiet, this place. Which right now is something we need. We might stay for a while, I'm not sure." She chuckled as Alice switched to throwing her arms around her, now. Her arms came up to hug the child back. "Some calm might do us good."

Hank gathered his essentials: milk, eggs, bread, and he added some summer flounder that'd apparently been brought in just that morning. Kara resumed the conversation as she rang him up.

"Is your child here too, at the Inn? Alice would love another playmate, and since they're the same age..."

Hank shook his head while he carefully packed away the carton of eggs. "It's just me and my dog. And the one guest, of course."

Kara's brows drew together at that. "I heard. Gossip's spreading around town, already."

Hank bristled at that. "Because he's an android?" Did people have some issue with that? Seeing an android, travelling independently, daring to assert himself by coming here as an outsider, and not even in the regular tourist season? Or - Hank flushed at the thought - was it gossip about the two of them being there alone, while the real owners were out of town?

Kara cut short this train of thought. The first second she looked perplexed, then she snickered. "Hank... there's loads of androids here."

He snorted, halting in his movements. "What? Where? I haven't seen any, besides you."

She shook her head, pressed some buttons on the cash register to display the total he owed.

"Most of us are just better integrated. There's a fairly sized community of us, most have just taken their LEDs out. If you've taken a stroll or bike ride through the town, theres a good chance you've already seen a few androids on your way."

Hank was stunned. "Huh. No kidding." The pay terminal beeped and he took his card back. "So then, what're they talking about?"

Kara raised an eyebrow. "You don't know who he is?"

She only got a confused silence in reply, then hummed before trying to word this tactfully.

"You did hear about the death of one of Cyberlife's main founders, just at the start of the year."

Hank vaguely remembered that - it'd been all over the news. Of course it had been. Though the two founders had distanced themselves from the company years ago, they'd given some comments in the wake of the events surrounding the start of November. The couple had upped their media presence immensely, advocating for android rights and offering them goods and services in addition to help equalize newly freed androids. Some extremists had disagreed with that. During a speech which happened shorly after the start of the new year, the wife had been shot. She died in hospital.

Though that had been tragic, Hank was still puzzled as to the relevance of that event right here and now.

"... yeah?"

"And you know the Kamski's had been living here for about ten years?"

"No..."

"But you read the articles mocking Chloe Kamski's death once people caught wind that she was operated on by a team of androids, in some ironic twist of fate."

Slowly but surely, the puzzle pieces started to fall into place.

"... Oh."

She had a softened look in her eyes. "Perhaps I've already said too much."

"No I, I mean," Hank took her hand as she reached out, and he squeezed it in a way he hoped was comforting. "That's all public information, I just hadn't put two and two together."

Kara let their hands linger for a moment before letting go. "You could still offer to talk to him about it. I'm sure he's feeling all kinds of things now that he's here, and it's often helpful to get such notions out in the open... If you two are getting along and the Inn is a safe retreat, maybe he could benefit from an honest conversation on it."

"Yeah, maybe..."

Hank said his goodyes to both Kara and Alice and was halfway out the door before he halted, turned back, and ambled up again to the small turning stand of cheesy souvenirs.

During the entire ride back, Hank was trying to process this information. He thought back on the previous night's dinner conversation. So that's why he'd come here. A quick stop before crossing over to the other side of the hemisphere. Twenty-four hours ago he hadn't known a thing about Connor, and now he felt like he knew too much. To hear first hand he'd worked in surgery was one thing. To hear from a secondary source about him not managing to save his own creator was another. Hank couldn't imagine what kind of feelings that'd stir up in someone, especially if that someone was still getting used to even having feelings in the first place. Hell, with over fifty years of experience, Hank himself still had trouble with processing his emotions in a healthy way, sometimes. He wondered if androids could just download a personal psychotherapy patch to neatly categorise and defuse anything upsetting. He sure liked that thought.

And he hadn't even realised this island was the place the Kamski's had retired to, either. He wondered if Carl knew anything about that - Hank was aware he'd been acquainted with the couple, even way before they departed from Cyberlife.

After parking his bike, he went up the stairs and into the kitchen to put away the food. At the sound of his boots on the wooden floor boards, Sumo came trotting up to see him. Hank put the bags down, shed his coat, and got on his knees to ruffle the dog's fur and kiss him on the forehead.

"Hiya, bud," the man rumbled, "looks like the walk has properly worn you out, huh."

Sumo wagged his tail and went to sit in the corner as Hank finished storing everything. Maybe he could unwind a bit with a drink on deck. He paused to give Sumo a last scratch as he headed into the seating area and straight for the bar globe. It opened with a creak. The man examined his options closely. Decided to play it safe and stick to the tropical mix juice. The satisfaction of sipping it from a lowball would probably do.

He stepped out onto the deck, picking a sturdy rocking chair to relax in. He sat back, took a refreshing sip, and twisted around to peer up at the balcony of the blue room. The patio door was shut, and there seemed to be no movement behind it. Perhaps its guest was busy showering or enjoying some downtime.

Hank took another sip and thought back on the events of the previous day. He hadn't engaged in any type of physical intimacy with another person since the marriage with Ashley had petered out, and perhaps that was starting to take its toll. He'd been holed up with some good looking young thing for less than a full day, and was already starting to feel some weird inclinations pop up towards him. The android. At work he'd seen plenty of cases involving interspecies relationships and related complications, so he knew it was becoming more acceptable since last fall, but still... Older cases haunted his mind, complaints on the damaging of sex club owned or private property which in this new light had meant human trafficking and sexual abuse. Now these people were starting to secure their rights, make progress towards equality, and one of the first things to affect Hank in his private sphere was to wonder if it was morally okay for him to want to fuck one. God. Of course it was? They were free to make their own decisions, and to think otherwise was an insult to the freedom so many of them had died for to achieve. Of course it wasn't. This consciousness had been freshly released into the world and all it had to offer, and he thought he could get some piece of that action for himself by abusing that zest for life and going "Well, since you're free to choose, agree to let me fuck you? As an act of free will, to reclaim your own body? Or stay closed off from that experience and deny yourself the liberties your people died for." Some sick shit like that. Plus, the guy looked about twenty years his junior, which with other humans wasn't, he supposed, technically illegal, but still kind of... a noticeable difference in age. Except this person was, of course, factory built from scratch, so god knows what the guy's _actual_ age was. Hank rolled his eyes at that train of thought. Of course, to think of Connor as being a one or two year old didn't make much sense, either. Even if theoretically, that could be the amount of time that had passed since he'd been delivered fresh off the production line. So then, intelligence and personality played a part. Which had also started out as a manufactured bit of code, albeit a complicated type. Hank wondered exactly when Connor had deviated. How many months had passed since that change, and what the android had developed and discovered about himself along the way. What kind of person he had become so far and what path he was on.

Hank thought back to that ardent, electric kind of prolonged eye contact they'd had the day before. He'd felt a bit disoriented from it when he'd answered Ash's phone call. What did it mean? Was this a mutual type of thing? Or was that just wishful thinking on his part, an interpretation blurred by his own lowly smouldering desire for this person? To think this bright young thing might actually feel attracted to _him_ of all people felt both invigorating and immensely confusing. It was immensely flattering. A little endearing. Though Hank also realised it wasn't something he could seriously entertain. Even if his guest felt some sort of way about Hank's appearance and the person he'd been in the last twenty-four hours, surely this perception would shift if he seriously opened up to put his many human flaws on show. Then the android's misguided bout of puppy love would vanish right into thin air. It'd make the rest of the weekend awkward as hell. Though, at least that situation would make some more sense than the current one.

So caught up in his own thoughts, Hank didn't realise what he was looking at straight away. The realisation dawned on him slowly. Even when it did, he couldn't quite wrap his head around what he witnessed. He slowly put his drink down, never breaking that visual. He got up and stood for a moment, just to try and confirm. Then he walked to the corner of the deck, to the stairs leading in the direction of the waterview, and headed down. He found a pair of footsteps and followed them from the Inn to the shore.

He kept walking straight for the figure seated in the shallow water. The closer he got, the more easily he recognised him, although part of him had known the moment he'd spotted him from the deck.

"Connor? What are you doing out here?"

The android sat in the ocean still in his running gear, with hands and feet buried in the sand in a half hearted attempt to keep himself from getting swept away altogether. The water came up to his midriff. He'd evidently been sitting there long enough to get fully splashed. Water was dripping from his dark hair, coiled and sticking to the edges of his face. Yet the android seemd unbothered by all of it. He was staring ahead. Hank crouched down and put a hand on Connor's shoulder.

"Hey, you searching for them good luck fish or somethin'? Because you'd have a better chance if you'd brought some bait."

Still no response. Hank squeezed the guy's shoulder.

"Come on now, let's get you back inside."

"I don't deserve it."

"What?"

"Anything."

Hank wasn't sure how to approach this. He'd gained some more understanding on what Connor might've been talking about, but that gossip had reached him behind the guy's back. What if he didn't want Hank to know? What if this Inn was the only place he could feel at least a bit sheltered from that entire history, and any mention of it from Hank would then ruin that? He thought back to the conversation they'd had the day before, especially what'd happened in the top room studio. Connor seemed ready to burst. Maybe Hank should assure him that venting would help. Though he knew thrusting that upon someone could have the opposite effect and make him shut down on him in full, which was a result he wanted to avoid at all costs. Hank tried to recall techniques he'd seen in therapy, before.

"What makes you say that? Talk me through it, what you're thinking."

Connor kept staring ahead. The man wasn't sure if he was processing this request or just completely ignoring it. The waves kept lapping at them both as he waited.

"I wonder..."

The android spent a few more seconds trying to decide on how to voice his thoughts, before just letting it all out.

"I wonder what'd happen if I let myself get swept away by the current. Androids are just machines. We can't drown, or starve, or dehydrate, even if I let my chest cavity fill with water and sink, I might be durable enough to withstand the pressure and stay conscious through it all. My systems would remain active until my thirium got depleted. We are doomed to live for ages, but in a way, practically dead already."

A particularly strong wave knocked Hank back a little. As the tide drew back, Connor let himself be dragged along another inch or so. He barely seemed to notice.

"I wonder, should I allow myself to be swept up, if I'd ever wash ashore again. Dead or alive. If anyone would bother to come find my body. If I would be identified. If anyone would care about me resurfacing at all. I wonder if Richard-"

Something constricted inside the android's chest, which stopped him from saying anything more. Hank wasn't sure what type of memories this name had brought up, but he didn't much like how they were both still in the water as it kept gaining more control. He wanted to snap the android out of this spiral. They didn't have the time to get into this. It was a conversation they should really take inside.

"Well... if you disappear on my watch, Carl is gonna run me over. Plus, it might lessen our score on Sleepr."

Though Connor tried to choke it back, he burst into an ugly sob. The shock was enough for the man to drop to his knees and wrap his arms around the android, who sank into the embrace immediately. Hank, feeling some fragile sense of compassion well up inside him, rubbed his hands across that sea-chilled spine before bringing up a hand to cover the back of Connor's head, keeping him close and protected.

"I only ever cause harm," he choked out, muffled into Hanks chest and now sodden shirt. "It's selfish to keep taking up space. I should do them a favour and step away from it all."

"Hey no, no," Hank pressed a kiss into the android's hair. He felt instant concern at hearing the sentiment stated so clearly. This type of shit sounded way too familiar.

"It's fine," Connor insisted, absently picking up on this elevated heart rate and the way Hank frantically held his body a bit tighter. Aiming to appease the man in turn. "I wouldn't feel much at all. I think it would be very peaceful, to be pulled out to sea and fade away without hurting anyone, any more."

Another wave crashed into them, splashing up the back of Hank's long sleeve shirt. Jesus, was it cold. He was eager to get them back in and rectify the situation while seated by a warm fire. The cold was thoroughly seeping into his old man bones, now.

He got up and again tugged on the android's arm which, of course, didn't budge.

"Come on, man," he pleaded, aiming for another joke to help snap out of this. "I'm gonna catch pneumonia, tryin' to haul your ass back in."

Connor turned his head to assess the human next to him. He slowly took in the way the man was drenched, especially since he'd just held a soaking wet android in his arms. The cold ocean water made his shirt stick to his chest as a cold wind blew. At that realisation, Connor looked impossibly more stricken. "I'm so sorry."

"I forgive you. Now let's go."

After some befuddled hesitation, the android finally got up, though a bit unsteadily. Hank wasn't sure if that was due to the sand or the emotional duress. Either way, he instinctively was moved to help by taking Connor's arm and placing it across his wide shoulders. He put an arm around and tucked the android close to his side. He was met with a look of shocked confusion.

"It's fine," he tried to assure him, "you can lean on me."

Hank guided them to the asphalt road for more stabilised footing, though even then, Connor seemed reluctant to let go. Together, they walked back to the house.

Once they reached the covered space, Hank drew them towards some extra chairs. He pulled one out with his free hand and directed Connor to sit. Even the short walk had somehow exhausted the android. Hank wasn't quite sure what to do. He glanced down at the solemn company, still messy and dirtied up. The man suddenly remembered the guide lines Markus had given.

"We, uh, we're supposed to rinse off a bit before we head back up. To get some of the sand, and the salt, um."

Connor didn't look like he was listening. Hank turned to the one person shower. He might as well go first.

He toed off his sodden boots and socks and pulled off his long sleeve shirt. For a second he doubted on removing his undershirt as well, but decided not to. The pants were also definitely staying on. He stepped beneath the spray of the shower head and let the water soak him thoroughly. It seeped into his remaining clothes and washed out the worst of the collected grime. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, in case that had gotten dirtied too. Once he felt relatively clean, he turned the water down again and looked at Connor. It seemed like the android hadn't moved at all. Hank self-consciously tried to unstuck the thin shirt that was plastered against his chest as he made his way over and kneeled down, aiming for eye contact.

"Connor? You doing okay?"

No response.

"Did you hear what I said? You need to clean up a little before going through."

At that, Connor started tearing up again.

"Jesus Christ. Okay, come on, kid." Hank stood up again. He put one hand on Connor's sternum, the other around the back of the chair, and as gently as possible dragged it to the shower nozzle. He gingerly moved Connors head back to rest against the wall before turning on the water. It cascaded down on the still unblinking android.

"... Okay, see? You're all set."

Hank himself turned into a statue as well now, not sure if he should go or not. It looked like Connor would just sit there until all the water ran out. Except, he was already tipping over.

"Woah hey, hey!"

Hank darted over and caught him just in time, again on his knees and messily righting the android in his seat. While manhandling him into place, Hank pressed his fingers into a slight indent that made Connor wince. Hank noticed in an instant. Stunned, he ran his fingers across the spot more gently. He then slowly brought his hand down to the hem of Connors shirt. The android looked away as he lifted it to inspect the side that had been injured. The layer of synthetic skin sluggishly rippled, flickered and retracted at an uneven pattern. A few inches below the armpit, his chassis had fractured and caved in. A beat of silence. Then pure rage washed over Hank.

"Did Kamski do that. Did he fucking do that to you."

He caressed his thumb across the messy oval shape of the crack pattern. Connor took in a heaving breath, tried to turn his face away further. Hank couldn't tear his eyes from the damage.

"Any shards in your torso cavity? Did you puncture anything? Because I swear to God, if he-"

"I'm fine, Hank," Connor finally choked out. "I'll take care of it."

"Fine? Fine?!" He tried to keep his voice down considering the deserved recipient of his anger wasn't here, but he was feeling pent up.

"We're going there right now, he can't fucking do that, not anymore, he-"

"Just leave it."

"Just!?"

Connor's broken and defeated tone triggered something inside that made Hank even more geared up to fight. But he knew from his job experience that wasn't always the best course to follow. Like it or not, he needed to respect Connor's wishes in this. He took a few deep breaths to try and cool down before he resumed speaking.

"It's messed up. You should fucking sue him."

"It's an easy enough fix." Connor vaguely pointed at the repair station just a few feet away.

"That's not what I meant."

The android did turn to look at him then. Hanks determined sincerity instantly shook him from his dispassionate mindset and lifted the detached kind of look he'd had in his eyes. This open vulnerability was immediately covered by shame at having been so thoroughly seen.

"I can handle it from here, thank you." His voice sounded a bit more steady, though there was still a small tremor. The human seemed to pick up on it. He squeezed Connor's knee gently.

"Are you sure? I could, I don't know, help."

Connor crumbled a bit at the man's pity. A feeling he immediately blocked off further with a strained smile.

"You should go take a warm bath, before the pneumonia sets in."

Hank was taken aback a bit, but recognised a hard pass when he saw one.

"Right. I... yeah."

Still supporting himself on Connor's knee, he got to his feet again, then reluctantly let go. For a long few seconds, he just stared down at the android, who was refusing to meet his eyes. Then he turned and went up the stairs, letting distance settle between them again. Downstairs, Connor allowed himself one more deep inhale before he stood, put the chair away, and started patching himself up as best as he could.

Five minutes later, Hank was still seething as he stepped into the hot bath he'd drawn. It was a slightly comical sight. Every room at the Inn had a quaint little ensuite to match, meaning Hank's bathroom was decorated in soft shades of yellow with peach accents. The space contained some frilly patterned curtains, marble honey comb tiles, a rustic medicine cabinet with gold detailing and currently, a tall and fuming naked man trying to get comfortable in his clawfoot tub. He rubbed some soap into a washcloth and started scrubbing at himself in an effort to work the anger out. His skin still showed goosebumps from the chill outside.

Like many stations, starting mid November, the DPD had founded its own special division to navigate the brand new personhood of androids, as it became valid by law. There had still been a lot of ownership issues regarding the former owners, and not just in demands for refunds from Cyberlife. Civil cases popped up left and right, with people accusing other citizens of stealing or influencing their property pre-deviancy, as well as suing the androids themselves pretty much the second they'd become liable parties. However, gaining independence had had some nasty consequences for many androids, as violent opposers saw it as a chance to vent their hate without having to pay someone over damaging private property. Both Hank and Officer Chen had processed a load of assaults with the exact type of wounds he'd just seen. Though the total number of hate crimes was on a slow decrease, it was still happening on a regular basis. Something about seeing Connor like this sparked a flame inside the Lieutenant. He could understand Kamski's hurt, but shit, mistakes happen. If a doctor had tried their best to save one of his loved ones but ultimately failed, that wouldn't be a cause to kick the shit out of said doctor or hold any type of grudge towards them in general. The thought that Connor came here to meet with him, maybe try to make things right, only to get assaulted and sent back on his way, alone... Hank scrubbed at his shins, hard, in an effort to try and simmer down.

And shit, sometimes he just really couldn't hold back and had to wear his heart on his sleeve. He was just a tad ashamed at his unfiltered reaction. At how clearly he had shown his drive to protect the android, first by dragging him out of the water, then nigh undressing him to assess the damage. Oh, God. Besides the anger and shame, he was now hit by a different rush of heat altogether. He'd really just put his hands on him, just now. First on the way to the Inn, when he'd pulled the other man close against him, feeling him breathe and move against his own side as he held him steady and upright on the walk back. Then when he'd unveiled what was beneath the rumpled, clammy fabrics - a perfectly toned stomach, a smooth expanse of skin dotted with the occasional beauty mark... Though Hank had been focused on the shattered spot in the moment, now the total image seeped back in. How soft and lifelike that skin had felt as he'd brushed his fingers against it, this prefectly rendered anatomy. And Connor had let him. He'd allowed the man to see, to touch, to come in close. At least, until he had shown genuine concern for not just his physical, but emotional state. He really did hope Connor had been able to manage the repair. Perhaps he'd reentered the house already and had gone up to his own ensuite. Maybe right now, he was also getting fully undressed, and mentally processing the same events. Stepping out of his sodden sweatpants, shedding all clothes to uncover his pure naked form. Signs of perfect craftsmanship shifting under the warm hue of synthetic dermal covering, delicate and powerful, stepping into the shower, tilting his head back with a sigh and letting the water run down, down, _down_...

Hank groaned in annoyance. He was already half-hard just picturing this, his cock bobbing with interest in the soapy water. Gross. This was really not the time. He shifted his position to try and submerge himself as much as possible, until his ears had dipped below the water and his mind got flooded with tranquil silence. He sighed deeply, closed his eyes, let his hair drift freely. He stayed until the excitement lulled and his erection waned. He soaked until he grew cold.

Hank spent most of his time that afternoon retrieving the hurricane guards from beneath the house. They were all marked to indicate which windows they'd fit onto, and though it was a task he could've pushed back until the next morning, he figured he might as well get started on it now. That gave Connor the chance to unwind a bit, being given free reign of the house. Plus, Hank could keep an eye on all three staircases leading from the Inn down to the sand. Even if he didn't think the android would be drawn to shore again, it made him feel useful and a bit more at ease to know he had a good overview should any movement occur. In the mean time, hey could both use some breathing space to figure out their thoughts. He hauled down a batch of two-by-fours to distribute amongst the bundles of storm guards, before he would tow those all up to the corresponding floors tomorrow.

When he stepped back in, he was surprised to be met with the smell of baked fish. Instead of going straight up to his room, Hank followed the scent into the kitchen. Connor turned around as he entered through the swinging doors. The android looked completely normal and put together again. Hair neatly combed, dress shirt buttoned up, and with a modestly pleasant expression on his face. He only betrayed a slight nervousness in the way he wiped his hands on his apron before stepping closer.

"I owe you an apology. And I wanted to thank you by cooking dinner. Hope you don't mind."

Hank wasn't sure how to even begin to unpack that.

"No, of course, that's..." He stammered. "Thank _you_."

"You're welcome."

Hank wasn't sure how to continue from here, how to get back into that whole conversation, if it was even right to do that now, when Connor seemed ready to not address it at all.

"The fish will take at least another ten minutes. You have time to freshen up."

Hank looked down his body. Lugging the protection gear around had left him covered in sweat and grime. He felt stupid for having rendered his earlier bath completely meaningless. He nodded in compliance and went up as Connor started going through the cabinets.

He used the ten minutes allotted for a quick but thorough catlick, drying his hair and deciding on his clothes. As it had started to cool down, he decided on a basic shirt and some loose, patterned knitwear. He took another moment to check his phone and shoot Cole a quick message.

When he made his way down to the main floor, Connor was waiting by the foot of the stairs. He was absently rubbing his hands together in wait of something better to do. As he noticed Hank, he looked up and smiled before leading the man through the kitchen and into the dining room. Its decorations were similar to the adjoining living area: walls of a warm yellow, original paintings adorning the scene, and various beach-themed trinkets along the walls and cabinets. Instead of different settees and armchairs, this room held a total of three tables, each with a mishmash of two to four chairs. The table by the window had been set. Connor had made it an extra appealing space with a fresh tablecloth, lit candles, and even a small bouquet of flowers. Though the main lights were turned off, some overhead lamps in the small window nook had been lit, making it a cozy and intimate space to enjoy dinner. Hank picked the chair that had him face in the direction of the ocean. Connor zipped right into the kitchen, to reemerge with a generous helping of food.

"I figured you'd approve if I used the flounder you brought for another oven dish." He set the plate down, and Hank hungrily eyed the platter. It looked like a healthier, homemade version of fish and chips, with plenty of roasted vegetables on the side. He could already tell there was a good amount of rosemary and thyme on there.

"Connor, that looks great. How'd you know I wasn't allergic to anything?"

The android straigthened up. "I still have a direct access to healthcare files."

Hank's stomach dropped the second he reflected back on his lengthy medical history and hospitalisations. Yikes. Connor seemed to realise his mistake at the same time.

"That is to say, I just skimmed- I checked the provided info on your allergies, blood work, general health, just those base lines to cross reference with possible recipes. Purely objective info, so you don't need to worry about a breach of confidentiality."

Hank grit out: "It's fine." It was not fine. But he tried to keep in mind the android meant well. It was hardly his fault that he had access to some very intimate knowledge of Hank's personal history. He'd only opened that can of worms to confirm Hank wouldn't die from some minor ingredient.

Connor's eyes flicked down to Hank's firm grip on his silverware, and seemed to deflate a little more.

"Okay then. I'll leave you to it. I hope your meal will be satisfactory. Please call for me if you'd like another serving." He then disappeared into the next room.

Hank sighed. Got started on his meal with only the ocean view as his company. Great going.

Before he could get too self-deprecating on how he'd tackled the interaction which was meant to patch things up, Connor came back with a glass bottle of water.

"I'm so sorry, I forgot your drink. I'm sure you know Carl has a solid wine selection, but- anyway, here you go." He set the bottle down and made it halfway across the room when Hank called him back.

"Just- hang on. You wanna sit with me?"

The android turned around, looking just a smidge hopeful, yet incredulous.

Hank pushed the opposite chair back with his foot. "Only if you want to. I don't mind the company."

After another beat, Connor's shoulders relaxed a little. He made his way over and gingerly sat down.

Hank pointed his fork at the food. "This is really good. Thank you."

"You're welcome." That did seem to make the android lighten up a little. He had started to make amends for being a complete mess and a danger, earlier, even if the added favour hadn't been necessary for forgiveness. Hank tried to get into that tactfully.

"Maybe we should talk."

Connor only nodded. He looked down at his hands, resting in his lap, avoiding eye contact for now.

"Earlier, when you saw-" He broke this off again with a strained, close-lipped smile. "You mentioned mr. Kamski. So I assume you already know a few things about the reason for my being here."

Hank felt like stuffing himself with fries until his stupid mouth choked on it. In the heat of the moment, that had indeed, slipped out.

"Only some, yeah. A friend in town filled me in. I know mrs. Kamski got shot, earlier this year. I know you've worked in surgery. That officially, she died in hospital. I know Kamski lives 'round here somewhere." His eyes flit to the spot where he knew Connor got damaged. "And I know you got a nasty looking dent in your plating. Which I can only assume was some sick type of repayment you got for trying to talk it out with the guy."

Connor shook his head, trying to assuage that accusation.

"That's not how it happened. Mr. Kamski had sent me a note, asking to meet. I ran into his brother before I had the chance to enquire any further. The man got physical when I tried to push things. It's... reasonable for him to dislike me. I can understand if it's part of his own grieving process, especially if he's seen the way my actions have taken a toll on his kin. It doesn't hurt me the way it would've hurt a human."

"But it still hurt."

"That's fine, I can take it."

Hank's mind flashed to the type of images he'd seen in processing years and years of domestic assault files. Bruises, fractures, and pertaining to the more recent android victims - even more severe bodily trauma and dismemberment. His heart sank picturing Connor like this. A mind dissociated from a fractured body, caved, smashed to bits, or slowly sinking to the bottom of the ocean. Willing to take the brunt to at least serve a purpose of anger relief to some piece of shit human. "You shouldn't _have_ to take it. It's still fucked up if someone caused you harm."

Connor didn't know what to say to that. Hank let him ponder on it as he polished off the rest of his meal, giving the android some space. This really did taste good. It was oddly touching that Connor had gone through all this trouble for him, even if being openly vulnerable had not been a thing that begged forgiveness.

The previous night, their time together had come to a conclusion the second they got up from dinner. Hank wasn't yet ready to finish this now. He sensed there were still some things that needed to be said.

"You wanna move this to the sitting room?"

Connor looked up in surprise. Perhaps he was already expecting the petered out conversation to be a harbringer of the night coming to a close. He agreed to the proposition and got up to clear the table. He swatted Hank's hand away as the man tried to help clean up.

"I've got it, thank you. Perhaps you'd like to get settled already, light the fire, get a blanket."

Hank nodded, then went into the next room to do exactly that. Though most was stacked outside, Carl always kept a small stock of firewood in close proximity to the hearth. As for a place to sit.

The three seater couch closest to the fire was his first choice. When he'd sat here with Carl only two days ago it had been quite cozy, though now he could give the android some space if needed. They could sit as close or far from each other as they'd like. However, Sumo had already claimed two thirds of it. Three different armchairs were spread across the room. All were sort of distant from each other: one was a clearly designated window seat, the other two on opposite sides of the room. Not exactly ideal for a heart to heart. To drag in a dining room chair would hardly do, either. After all that work and a good meal, Hank was ready to get comfortable. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the cushy love seat in its own little nook.

He heard Connor make his way over to join him. Hank quickly prodded at his dog to get him to move.

They got settled on the main couch and took some time just basking in the warmth. What a huge difference with the position they'd been in, just hours ago. Hank thought back on that, the things Connor had brokenly admitted to as he was waiting to get swept up by the tide. What else had seemed important in that narrative. What was the element still to be examined.

Hank casually readjusted the blanket over his legs. "So. Do you want to tell me about Richard?"

Connor bowed his head.

"He's another prototype in the RK line. As you might know, models of the RK make are aimed to have more creative, holistic, and experimental functions within their general field of expertise. The 100s are a versatile brand of teacher, 200s are caretakers, 300s are deployed by the fire department... you already know I was police issued. The next level was military grade."

Hank did vaguely know about that. It had been a controversial but swiftly approved bill. Even if there were some ethical hangups, people had been mostly relieved to see this alternative, to have a secure military defense with a huge decrease in human casualties. Human casualties on the American side, anyway.

"So... like you, he deviated and tried to help by changing?"

Connor contemplated on how to proceed. He took the edge of Hank's blanket and gently rubbed the fabric between thumb and forefinger.

"Not exactly. According to the new android rights, any military service needed to be explicitdly consented to, just like it can't be forced upon a human individual. He was decomissioned automatically. And due to his preexisting knowledge of human anatomy, repurposed in a line of work less ambiguous. That way he wouldn't sit idle in wait of deviation. We worked together for a few weeks, up until..."

He trailed off. Scrunched the blanket in his fist.

"When mrs. Kamski was brought in, we knew her odds of survival were low. Perhaps you remember the footage from the shooting."

Hank thought back on the events. It had been a horrific sight. "It seemed like a pretty severe head shot to me."

Connor's eyes glazed over. As if he, too, was reliving what he'd seen that day.

"We worked on her for hours. I knew that there was still a possibility. I knew she was in the best hands possible to make this succeed, for her to have any chance of making it through. We had the medical knowledge. We had the experience. We had the exact step by step plan to make it work. And still-"

His LED flickered yellow. His facial expression tightened.

"And still I failed. I did everything right, and it still wasn't enough. This woman had given me life and in return, I killed her."

Hank frowned, protested immediately in a low voice. "Some psycho anti-android nut with a gun killed her."

Connor shook his head, insistent.

"First I killed so many. Then I betrayed that system when it turned out I was too weak and it became too much to bear. I chose a function to try and make amends. But then, again, disappointed the humans when I failed at the one task I had set out to do. I don't know... Maybe being a killer is just who I am. What I was made for. Maybe it's engrained, deep in my code, where I'll never be able to reach it."

He took in a few heaving breaths. From the other side of the room, Sumo perked his ears up. Automatically, the dog came over to offer some comfort. He jumped up on the couch, surprising both people already on it with how crowded it suddenly got. Being thrown like this startled Connor into a laugh, especially when the dog curiously nosed at the androids face and came to stand directly on the man's thighs. Hank was only a little concerned.

"If he's too heavy just give him a little shove, he'll catch on."

"No, I like the weight - it's comforting."

Sumo got settled half on the android's legs, allowing Connor to pet him as he continued on.

"We were still synchronised when the despair really hit me. I think the shock carried through. He approached me immediately after, desperate to talk, for me to _please_ share with him how I was feeling about all this but I-"

Connor made some vague gesture.

"I didn't want to open myself up to it any further. I knew I had to block that out to make it through the rest of our shift. Revert to being robotic. But I know now, how deeply that rejection must've hurt him."

Connor sighed deeply. He redirected his gaze to the flames.

"Only later did I find out that was the moment he deviated. I _did that_ to him. And I wasn't there to help him through it. Which is why I need to make it right. When I accessed the hospital's AI personnel records, I discovered he's currrently stationed near Esmeraldas, Ecaudor, helping the people there with basic health care... He might not want to see me, but I need to reach out and at least let him know he has the option to. I owe it to him."

"It must've been so hurtful, and without proper reason." Hank finally rasped.

Connor closed his eyes, in a pained expression. "Yes. And I know trying to amend will never be enough to undo the hurt I've caused-"

"I meant for you. To hold yourself responsible for her death."

Connor let out a broken, shaky exhale. Hank's heart ached. He wanted to move closer. He wanted to physically comfort the other man, give him permission to cry it all out and then reassure him he wasn't a bad person. Just the fact that he was so desperately ready to take on the blame lest it consume anyone else, and was on a constant chase to try and make things better... did that not say enough about his true nature?

Of course, the dog was already in between. At the same time Hank realised maybe this was for the best. Connor was leaving on Monday. He couldn't allow himself this, to grow to care about him. This being, only just having started his life, had already been met with so much disappointment. Whatever this thing between them was, it'd only be another letdown in the long run. Hank shouldn't forget what he was like. He knew his flaws eventually drove people away. Even though they'd only just gotten to know one another, he genuinely wanted something better for Connor. He couldn't be selfish and indulgent and claim any space for himself in this person's life. He couldn't take advantage like that of a freshly deviated and deeply troubled android, still in the midst of trying to figure things out. If shit ever went south between them, it was easy to imagine Connor would only fall back into his regular strategy of self blame and guilt. Hank couldn't let his own fuck ups contaminate this man even more. But he could give him just a glimmer of positivity to help cheer him up.

Connor looked up as Hank rose from his seat. His fingers clutched Sumo's fur. Hank reassured him swiftly.

"Hang on, I got something for you."

He went to the reception desk to retrieve the key chain he'd picked up in Kara's shop. Before he could feel too self-conscious and stupid about the gesture, he thrust it in Connor's hands. The android looked at the small, shiny silver bauble in confusion.

"It's a sand dollar," Hank blurted. "It's supposed to bring good luck."

Connor stared in silence. Then he slightly teared up again, stunned at the unprompted gift. "It's beautiful."

"It's a three dollar trinket. But uh, you're welcome."

It didn't quite have the effect Hank had been aiming for. He scrambled to find something more uplifting.

"Hey, wanna see something funny?"

A watery Connor looked up from his hands, still cherishing the small key chain. Hank nodded decisively, then walked over to the record player by the door. He browsed the selection for something upbeat and showy. As the track started playing, he turned back to face the couch. Connor was still looking at him in mild confusion. Hank tried to break the tension by wiggling his hips and shoulders a little.

The android gave him a blank expression. "Thank you. That's really funny."

"Just you wait. Sumo, up, up!"

The dog reared his head and after brief consideration obeyed, lumbering over to his owner. When Hank patted his pecs, the dog jumped up and let the man move the fluffy dog paws over his shoulders. The two awkwardly stepped back and forth, off-beat to the rhythm.

Connor couldn't help but smile just slightly. "That's really funny."

"Right? He's a real gentle man, such skills, such exceptional dancing prowess." The dog good-naturedly endured being moved this and that way.

"He is. He really is."

The slight softness to his voice betrayed what Connor really meant to say, but Hank wasn't paying attention. He didn't notice how the android was looking at him, with a gentle understanding appreciation in his eyes, having been comforted and made to feel a bit more worthy of taking up space. Connor didn't consider himself deserving of this level of consideration. But he had to admit it felt nice to be seen, and still be valued despite the wrong he'd done. Hank had gone through all this trouble to help relieve some of the stress he'd been experiencing, just by giving those worries a safe space to be worded. Though nothing had been solved, this had been a huge step already. And now, Connor was faced with another tableau of zest and life. One he ached to step into and be enveloped in, even if he couldn't dare believe he'd be tolerated for longer than tonight. He wanted to pretend he could have something good, even if only for a while.

He wiped at his face and stood up. The dog turned toward Connor, darted happily between the two people. Connor quickly synched himself with the sound system to up the volume, making Hank yell in enthusiasm. He kept dancing in an encouraging manner as Connor hesitantly joined him from a polite distance.

Hank burst out into laughter.

"I'm sorry, you- come on, more like this."

He stepped into the other's personal space and took the android's hands, motioning with them at a more accurate rhythm.

"Right? And a little looser in the hips. There you go."

Connor purposefully adjusted his settings and allowed his body to relax in its performance of motions. It felt good to let go. To be a bit more pliable and to trust he was in safe hands. Literally so. He flexed his fingers touching Hank's, registering the texture. The man adjusted his grip.

"Good. Now, let's see what you got-"

He guided Connor into some basic and slow paced swing moves, which startled a surprised laugh from the android. He let himself be twirled and guided in whichever way his attentive dance partner wanted, and tried to forget about the emotionally demanding day he'd had. He just experienced relief at having seen it through somehow, and gratitude to have been granted this reprieve. In this current moment he'd lived to reach, he felt at ease with knowing a timidly blossoming joy.

Neither was sure how long they spent dancing like this, intermittently swaying and swinging lightheartedly without saying anything more. Connor could've spent forever in this secluded little safe haven he'd somehow found his way into. But of course, the hour grew late and Hank grew tired. Connor could tell he was trying to suppress his yawning. So rather than selfishly milk this for as long as he'd be allowed, Connor took matters into his own hands and, after having steeled himself, stepped closer again and slid both arms around the man's torso. He pressed his face against the man's clavicle and deeply in- and exhaled. Hank instantly stilled in response. Connor could feel his heart rate pick up as their chests were pressed together.

"Thank you," he murmured, speaking directly into the man's skin. "For everything you've done for me, today. You've really improved my evening. I had a good time."

Hank seemed to relax a bit at that and huffed out a gentle laugh. His shoulders relaxed, even if his heart didn't. "Uh, sure. I feel the same." He then brought his own hands up to reciprocate the hug. One lightly pressed between Connor's shoulderblades, the other brushed against his back a few inches lower. The hardware inside ticked into overdrive as a reaction. Connor dared to nuzzle into the side of the man's neck just slightly. He was more than content to share this moment of tranquil peace, knowing soon enough the magic would be broken and he'd be faced again with cold harsh reality.

Hank gave one pat, sighed in defeat. "We should go to bed."

" _Yes_."

This low purr was too fervent, betraying how Connor desperately wanted to interpret the suggestion. Hank drew back and considered him for a moment. The man had to break eye contact when faced with an intensity he was not expecting. He quickly distanced himself further by looking around the room. He spoke softly and resigned.

"I still need to lock the place up for the night. Why don't you go ahead. I'll see you in the morning."

Connor felt as though his thirium pump stuttered, even if on the outside he remained perfectly composed.

"Sure. Good night, then."

"Good night, Connor."

They stood silent for a few more tense seconds. Connor wished he still had that physical contact, to be able to monitor the man's heartbeat and derive further meaning. It was more difficult to read him now. From one moment to another, a wall had been drawn up between them. It was clear and thin, but it was there. The android knew another word from either of them might be enough to pull it down again, and he vaguely sensed that either of them could be gearing up to say something to do exactly that. Or perhaps that was only wishful thinking. Perhaps he had pushed things too far by relying on Hank too readily and now embarassed the man who'd only been trying to comfort him, but would never _really_ want to be associated with an-

Too quick to really be noticed, his LED indicator cycled to yellow and back. He shouldn't force the man even further out of his comfort zone than he already had. Even if he'd thought for a moment that there had been a genuine interest.

Connor nodded, turned, and walked out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom. He quickly undressed and slipped between his sheets. He lay in silence, attuned to the smart home software and tracking the man in mind as he circled the level below, shutting off the lights and checking the locks. Connor could pinpoint his exact location by position of the light switches. Then, as he went up the stairs, the tracking became auditory. Connor tried to relax his position and stared in suspense at the door he'd left unlocked. Footsteps approached. His host drew near. Connor knew it was stupid to hope, but still did.

He ignored the statistics of probability as they swerved up, then straight down again. The footsteps turned away with only the slightest hint at a pause. The door to the yellow room shut with a quiet but unmistakeable click.

Though the house had settled into a soothing quiet, it took some time until both people within it succeeded in drifting to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy to see other people (besides me lmao) are enjoying this ride, and feel immensely grateful for all your hits and kudos I've received so far. Truly, I'm touched by the support. Thanks again <3


	4. Saturday

Saturday morning, Connor figured he'd do his host a favour by taking Sumo out as he went for a jog. The man was still asleep, and this seemed like a good way to once again show gratitude, for everything.

It was a grey morning. A disorganized flock of gulls drifted across the sky. The wind had already started to pick up. Even how the waves crashed onto shore seemed to be in taut anticipation of the storm which was steadily brewing off the coast. Connor checked the forecast. They'd still have several hours until that would start to pick up. By taking the dog out spontaneously, they'd be able to get to protecting the house faster. They? He stuttered in his jogging motions before resuming his course. Yes, he was hoping Hank would allow him to help shield the Inn from harm. It seemed like the android had grown more and more attached to the place, and the emotions he had started to associate with it. Soon enough, he turned back, eager to check on the house, and to see whether Hank had gotten up yet. He wanted to maybe talk through some things, discuss the few questions that he had. The android thought back on the previous night and more specifically, how it had concluded.

He'd felt good about this. Both emotionally and physically, he'd suddenly found himself incredibly close to this man he felt attracted to. This man who'd supported him by hearing him out, offering advice where he could help, and distraction where he couldn't. Connor had been grateful for all of it and had eagerly accepted what he could get. Furthermore, he'd subtly tried showing his willingness to grow even closer. He wasn't sure if he had been too subtle to be picked up on, or let down gently as the man stlll showed consideration towards his fragile state of mind. Connor had run it through several data banks and felt sure about his conviction. To dance together meant something. Even if the man had kept him at a distance. To be held, guided and moved in tandem after having been emotionally braced... Hank, too, must've felt something. Even if they'd said their goodbyes and retreated to their respective rooms without addressing it.

Connor was keen to find out if they could continue down this new path in the stark daylight.

As he approached the building, he could see the french doors of the living area stood open to vent the space - the smokey hint of the fire place scent had lingered through the night. Connor felt the thirium rush through his inner circuits at a slightly higher pressure. Not only due to the thought of the previous night and what had happened there, but in pure elation knowing that Hank was up and waiting for him to return safely.

Windswept, the android made his way to the deck's beach access stairs. He tried to shake the dog's fur clean of sand as much as he could before letting him pass. The Saint Bernard padded up the stairs and disappeared from sight. As Connor reached the deck space himself, he could just hear the sound of laughter coming from inside. His artificial heart made a tumble. He stepped into that welcoming main living area and looked towards the small service window into the kitchen, where at that same moment, Hank looked up and smiled. Connor felt a stupid amount of tenderness surge when being faced with that signature tooth gap.

"Good morning. You two got a nice walk in?"

"Yes. I hope you don't mind."

"Please, you did me a favour. Now I can get straight to breakfast, again." Hank patted his stomach. Connor's eyes followed the movement eagerly before the man returned to cutting up sausages. He tossed a piece to the dog at his side. "Lord knows I'll need the energy. I still have some preparations to go through to turn this place into a fortress. Gotta keep you safe from the storm, make sure the wind don't pick you up to fly you to Ecuador free of charge."

Connor grinned shyly. "Oh, I'd hate to leave early. I still need to be a nightmare guest and bother you with all my outrageous complaints, demands for better service, that type of thing."

Hank shook his head fondly in response. They both knew full well now things weren't remotely like that, and let the mutual knowledge linger for a while. Connor eventually got a bit jittery at this attention and was eager to move on.

"By the way, I'd be more than happy to help you with that. Putting up the guards? Especially on the higher levels, that doesn't seem safe for you."

If either of them should slip and fall, Connor reasoned it should better be him. He'd be more durable and likely to surivive it. And if he didn't, well, technically he was still more expendable than the human. Though he decided to not include that in his reasoning out loud.

Hank nodded, made his way to the pan on the stove to throw in the cut up meat before getting eggs from the fridge. The food prep forced him to stick to the other side of the room, facing away from the service window. Sumo trotted from the kitchen through the reception hall and back into the living room, to demand some attention from the android.

"Only if you're sure. You're my guest, you're supposed to relax and enjoy this holiday before you tackle that whole Richard thing."

A guest? With a whole Richard thing to tackle? Had he been reduced to this? Was this the human's way of claiming some personal distance again? The thought flashed through Connor's mind before he could stop it. Something wasn't quite right. Something about this conversation was maybe too surface-level friendly. He was trying to come up with a way to segue this back into a more serious line of thought, in the hope he'd be granted access again to the part of this bond that made Hank want to be there for him. He pet the dog and grimaced, thinking back on his confrontation with Kamski's younger brother. Might as well. "It was never intended to be a holiday."

"Well... Maybe it can be, starting now." Hank shot a glance over his shoulder. Connor wasn't quite sure what to make of this, couldn't permit himself read too much into anything. He knew he'd love to spend some more time with this man. He wasn't quite sure anymore if the sentiment was mutual. If they could slip back to that closer, deeper than friendly type of bond, or if this had been a step too far which was being cut off as politely as possible.

"I'd like to help."

Hank nodded, refocused on the stove. "Okay. Give me another fifteen, twenty minutes or so to enjoy my meal and get all prepped to work. You can go ahead and just be a regular guest for a bit."

Connor couldn't leave without trying to press the issue. "Am I just a regular guest, then?"

"No," Hank rumbled, stirring the contents of his pan. "No, I do think you're something special."

Connor waited for him to turn around in the hopes the man's facial expression could give him something more, but it seemed like the conversation had ended. With one last pet for Sumo, the android went up to his room to leave his host in peace.

They got to work shortly therafter, eager to get the house boarded up before the storm rolled in. As Connor brought various decorations and some of the lighter weight outside furniture into the living and dining rooms, Hank made his way around the upstairs levels to close the shutters and windows from the inside. He started at the top level in the studio before making his way down again. Since Markus and Carl both enjoyed painting, as well as the room being so exposed to damage from all sides, it felt like the room that needed to be secured the most. Hank made sure to double check he'd closed everything up safely. Bit by bit, the space darkened, obscuring the various artworks displayed. He didn't look at his old portrait. He didn't stop to recall the moment he'd shared with Connor, the day his guest had first arrived here. He didn't allow himself to. Just shut the last window a bit more forcefully than needed, latched it, and headed back down. He did a thorough walk through across the guest-restricted third level. Most of these rooms were empty, holding some extra furniture covered in sheets. He still had to make sure the windows were sealed before he could move down to the level which held the current bedrooms.

The white bedroom and its ensuite had remained untouched, but he still double checked. He then walked past the blue room into his own quarters. He'd let them air out a bit, but now shut the windows tightly. He replied to another text from Cole before moving back to the hallway, and paused by Connor's private space. He hesitated. It should be fine for him to go in. Right now, he was the resident caretaker. It would make sense for him to go inside and check if everything was secure. It was his task to take care of both the room and the guest inhabiting it. He was allowed entry. Plus, it would be stupid to halt Connor in his own activity, just to come and latch his stupid windows. Especially since the android had done Hank a favour or two by walking his dog, already.

Hank opened the door. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but still, the room seemed surpirsingly clean. Unlived in. Only a few minor details hinted at the presence of someone having recently occupied the space: the cushioned chair, angled away from the room to face the view outside. That compact pilot case, put up neatly next to the chest of drawers. The still rumpled bedsheets where Connor had slept.

Hank quickly looked back into the hallway behind him. No one there. He stepped closer to the bed and sat down. Put his hand flat onto the surface and felt the texture of the linen. He vaguely wondered if an android would wear clothes to bed. Humans mostly wore clothing for modesty and keeping warm, neither of which seemed as much as an issue for androids, especially if they slept alone. He couldn't help but picture the android sleeping peacefully, only half covered by the white and blue bedsheets.

He recalled the exhaustive info session on police androids when the DPD had received this first batch of assistance. Those models hadn't had- well. Their only function had been as a neat technologically advanced humanoid device. Their bodies had been made to wear the uniform, and any craft on further humanising details had been put mainly into taking their hands and face out of the uncanny valley. No need to think twice about their eerily smooth groins. Though he vaguely remembered the ironic absurdity of the synthetic skin forming nipples on the male presenting police androids, but not the female ones. Something about the goal of striving for reality, but a slight amendment being put in place after seeing sexually inappropriate behaviour in the workplace skyrocket. Complaints had not been made for the female presenting androids' sake, but rather because humans themselves hadn't felt comfortable seeing the clear indication of nipples on breasts, and the hound dog colleagues making good use of their chance to ogle without repercussions.

Hank snapped out of those thoughts. To think about intimate anatomy while sitting on the bed where Connor would sleep unsuspecting was completely invasive.

He walked out to the private balcony to bring in the telescope and two lightweight wooden chairs. Before going back in, he took a second to stand by the balustrade and look ahead. God, what a view. This really was the best room of the house. Though the lower deck stuck out a good few feet farther, he still enjoyed being up here. He hoped Connor had made good use of these amenities, already.

Downstairs, he could see that said android was picking up a few cushions that had been scattered - probably by Sumo. As he was completely focused on this task, Hank could take a moment to really take in his presence and appreciate it fully. After the high-stake events of the previous day, he sensed that someting had changed between them. A strange kind of comfort and quiet understanding. The mutual intimate trust was maybe hurried, but at the same time it had come strangely soothing and easy. Hank imagined it could grow to be addicting to them both in a codependent sense. If he was being honest with himself, it was a bit frightening how exponentially, they seemed to be growing ever closer. It'd be inevitable for them to crash into each other should they continue on that course, and a real crash it would be. To let himself get swept up into something exciting was one thing, to commit and only disappoint in the long run was another. He couldn't allow for that. He could make it through this stay cordially and part on Monday without any particular attachments. He could control himself and not get swept up in any romantic ideations.

Hank finally went down to help the other man secure the house.

By noon, the two of them had managed to bring in all the deck chairs, pull down the awnings, and secure the items on the ground level, as well as having fully boarded up the windows of the top level tower. After a brief lunch break, they continued their way down the rest of the house. There were just a few more windows left in the living and dining room until they were done. Hank insisted he should bear the brunt of the work in covering these last few windows, especially since Connor had pulled some breakneck manoeuvres when they'd started the task. They were working harmoniously on slotting the grooved boards in their brace, and Connor handed an accompanying slat for Hank to hammer in place. Despite the android's protests on safety, he held some construction nails clamped between his lips for efficiency's sake. The android absolutely did not hone in on that contrast of artificial material against a pliable mouth. Nor did he misuse this reprieve from harder labour to stand back and anticipate the sliver of skin that got exposed every time Hank reached overhead. He was just pleased to see the man so intent on working at least equally hard, even if Connor's stamina could undoubtedly handle the work. Well, fine. To catch that occacional glimpse was a situational bonus.

Sumo, who'd been exuberantly running back and forth across the cleared deck space, suddenly ran up to the far side facing the road as something had caught the dog's attention.

The two workers followed. When they reached the stairs leading down to the carport, they were met with a sleek, black car. The man in the passenger seat was making aggressively glaring eye contact already. When the door on the driver's side opened and a man stepped out, Connor had both hoped for and dreaded this outcome. The LED on his temple twice flashed yellow before returning to a calm blue. He descended to a small platform halfway down the stairs to meet mr. Kamski. Hank lingered upstairs, one finger hooked on the D-ring of his dog's collar.

"Connor," the man drawled. "It's good to finally speak face to face. I heard you've already met Gavin." He looked back at the man still in the passenger seat, and gestured for him to step out. The guy rolled his eyes and huffed before doing so.

"Yes," Connor stated, fidgeting with his hands. "Thank you for coming." He stood in silence for a nervous second. Then, courtesy protocols kicking in again, he half-turned to Hank to introduce them, but their new guest beat him to it.

"Ah, of course, you must be the Lieutenant. Carl told me all about you. It was a more favourable assessment than my brother could muster."

Hank nodded in greeting as he looked the man up and down. Though still recognisably him, Elijah Kamski had changed a lot in the weeks following his wife's death. Hank remembered the press footage from just last year. Even in business casual gear, the tech expert had looked very well groomed and put-together, not a hair out of place, and always spoke with a know it all type of air to fit the general impression he put out. Not anymore. His hair was tied back shaggily, and while he had always made his public appearances clean-shaven, now a careless stubble aged the once proud man. Perhaps as some conscious effort to avoid being recognised too easily. But it wasn't just his immediate appearance which seemed altered. Though some of the haughty vocab still seemed engrained, there was something tired and disingenuous about it now. Like the man himself knew this was only a thin worn mask for him to hide behind, though he still clung to it hoping to pull at least some strength from it.

Hank then took another good look at the man closer to the car who was shuffling his feet, hands buried deep in his jean pockets. He'd recognised his colleague instantly, but still could barely believe this. There was such a clear resemblance, and yet it'd never clocked that the two were related. Some fucking detective he was.

"Reed."

"Anderson."

That was that. Hank then addressed Elijah, since Connor still seemed to be processing how to proceed and after all, Hank was supposed to be a host at this place.

"You guys wanna come up and have something to drink?"

The only reply from Kamski was a glance to the darkening sky, then levelling a pointed Look. Hank had to admit he was glad he didn't have to invite either of them in, even if he understood this was a complicated mess for them all to navigate. Elijah did open the lower gate and stepped up until he was at equal footing with his creation, but it seemed like he had no intent to go any further.

Connor had finally found his words, standing toe to toe with the man. "What can I do for you?"

Elijah studied him for a long few seconds. Hank gave the dog collar a short tug to make Sumo sit still.

"I just want to know what went wrong."

Connor blinked in surprise. This was something he could answer. He mentally accessed the archived files and recited the findings again. During his detached, rambling spiel, the man directly facing him seemed to deflate with a general look of disappointment. The sibling below puffed up in anger until he slammed a fist on the hood of the car. It startled the android out of his speech.

"That's not what he meant, you worthless machine!"

The dog scrabbled to get up again, but Hank pressed his head down. He kept his own steady eye on the man who had kicked a small crater into this android barely more than twenty-four hours ago. He knew from a previous altercation at work that, should the need arise, he could easily fucking take him.

Connor looked from one brother to the other, perturbed. The elder kept his cool. His steady gaze met the android's again. It seemed like he wanted to peer deep inside him, but Connor was hesitant to meet him halfway. He wasn't sure what outcome the man was hoping for, and missing the ability to anticipate and play into this goal was keeping the android off-balance.

"I pored over the documents myself. I already know the official report. But I need to figure it out. I... God, I wish I could take you apart, look at every component and go through your code. I need to understand how you could've malfunctioned."

Connor felt his thirium pump pick up speed. "I didn't. I've already been through rigorous testing and performance reviews since and it has been determined I executed all commands to the best of my abilities. I am protected from further liability, in accordance with our healthcare policy. You cannot blame me for this."

"So you're unwilling to discuss the specifics?"

"I do not see a need to."

The man in front of him frowned. "Then why act on my invitation at all. You don't care about forgiveness? Closure, yours or mine? When you've already made up your mind to detach yourself from what happened, completely... Are you so incapable of empathy?"

He stepped closer. The android couldn't work out if this was some sort of intimidation tactic, whether he in turn should move closer or further away, or appear as if he wasn't bothered by it to begin with. He wasn't even sure if he should keep facing the man or avert his eyes as a sign of submission and respect. Would that come across as uncaring? Alternatively, would looking him in the eye be read as defiance? No matter the approach, it all felt wrong. Elijah's piercing eyes made him feel judged no matter what.

"My wife is dead." He enunciated. "She meant everything to me. And now, she is dead."

He kept a frustrated, steady glare on his creation.

"Do you even know what that means to someone? Do you realise she was a real, complex and meaningful person to the people she loved, and what it feels like for them now that she's gone?"

A tense and strained silence. He worried about what all these humans were feeling as he kept blundering in this conversation. Once again, he was proving himself to be nothing but a disappointment, and soon enough their tired defeat would grow to the anger he deserved.

"Do you even remember what she looked like? The shades in her hair? The colour of her eyes?"

Suddenly, a rush of relief. This was something to hang onto, something that proved his involvement and sense of humanity. "Of course I do."

Connor instantly manipulated his own settings, and his deep brown eyes shifted to a clear shade of blue. The man recoiled. He needed to grasp at the railing behind him to keep his footing. At the top of the stairs, Hank felt a painful stab in his heart, seeing that thinned and worn facade now crumble in full. Connor remained upright and unblinking, not understanding why this completely correct answer was met with such a violent reaction. His LED swirled into yellow again.

Gavin hissed in disgust. "Come on, Lye," he said, "let's get out of here." He already made his way over to the driver's side and pulled the door open with force. The other sibling, visibly weakened by the encounter, slunk back to ground level and did not look back. They drove off towards town as the first distant rumbles hinted at the oncoming storm. Connor watched them go. His eyes transitioned back to their usual brown colour.

Hank stood there, stunned and in disbelief, before turning his back and marching to the windows to resume his work. He fumbled with the nails before succeeding in holding one steady to drive it through the wood. Sumo had resumed roaming back and forth across the deck. Connor stepped back to Hanks side after brief consideration to pick up another two-by-four.

"I got it," Hank grumbled.

Connor frowned. He leaned the wood back against the outside walls before bending down to hold the container of nails.

"I said, I got it." Hank refused to look at him, attention focused on the work he was doing.

"Oh, so now you're angry with me, too?" Connor snapped.

"Jesus Christ, I," Hank did look at him then. Something about the android's clear defensive posture and carefully blank expression punctured Hank's vitriol. No, he wasn't mad, exactly.

"I'm just... I'm disappointed in you."

"What?"

"Oh, don't bullshit me. I know you have more capacity to feel and to empathise than whatever the fuck that just was. Come on, after yesterday? Are you for real?"

Connors fingers clenched around the tin, hard enough to make indents.

"The man clearly just wants to be heard, and you blocked him off, all robotic-"

"You told me it wasn't my mistake! I've been grappling with that all this time, and the second I start to actually believe it and stand up for myself, you want to tell me I'm still messing it up?"

"Jesus Christ, Connor." Hank shoved the hammer in his back pocket to free his hands for aggressive gesturing. "This was not the time for you to defend what happened! Why did you think he wanted to arrange a meeting, have you come all the way out here to meet at his home? He wanted to be looked in the eye, okay? Respected, treated as an equal. He opened himself up to show his hurt and you just give him the same standard reply those fucking hospitals give out. You're a vital connection to his dead wife. My guess is he wanted to process that hurt by meeting you openly, something you shut right down."

Hank bit back the tangent he wanted to address. That maybe Connor was not ready to handle things with Richard, not if his way of engaging in conversation was still a method of defense. A train of thought that got cut short anyways, as Connor shot back with an unexpected reply.

"You don't talk to me about equality! Do you even recognise me as an equal? Would you even let yourself consider-"

Something constricted again in Connor's circuits, choking him up too much to voice the rest. He recalled all those subtle signs in body language, a tilt, a look, an aborted gesture of the man betraying a deeper interest than what their friendly interaction had been like so far. He thought back on how the man had comforted and touched him like it came naturally. Like it had been the easiest thing in the world. And how it had then been cut short and glossed over again, as if Connor were only imagining things when he knew he hadn't.

"I am a robot," Connor sneered, "but don't act like you don't block your emotions off- every time you run the risk of approaching real intimacy with me."

Hank stood stunned, from one moment to the next feeling not only uncomfortably seen, but exposed. He felt his cheecks flush with shame at the lack of a retort. Not knowing how to handle his sudden humiliation, Hank smacked the tin of nails out of Connors hands before rushing back inside and slamming the door behind him. The bar globe had been tucked in a corner, driven back by both in- and outdoor furniture, but he craved a fucking drink.

Connor stood in silence for a few stretched seconds. Then let out a deep and angry wail. It was something he'd seen both in real life and in movies, and he hoped it would help. It didn't. If anyting, it made him feel even more empty and at a loss as for what he was supposed to do next. He let himself sink to his knees on the vast wooden flooring.

The dog ambled over to see what all this fuss was about. Connor righted himself somewhat for a hug, gripping the fur with both hands and hiding his face against the warm, heaving pelt. When Sumo shifted curiously towards the shiny little objects scattered all over, Connor sighed and pushed him away. He crawled back to where the tin had dropped to recollect all the sharp and potentially harmful nails. Some had ended up in the small crevices between the wood and proved some difficulty to hand pick back out.

Connor was in such prolonged distress over the argument that it took him over half an hour to collect all the nails, including the ones that had tumbled to the beach below. He set the tin aside. Still on his knees, he methodically swept the sand from one side to the other, just in case he had missed any. He couldn't bear the thought of someone stepping on a lost nail in the near or distant future. He dreaded hurting yet another person, even long after this place had forgotten about him. The complete inner maelstrom at having failed people yet again slowed his physical executioning, which also meant he didn't realise how close the storm had gotten until his eye fell on the water and he really took in his surroundings. The sky had grown darker, blotting out the sun. Only stone grey clouds raced overhead. The entire scene which had been so peaceful before, was now washed in a muted filter of dread. Connor checked his ocular settings. No, a storm really could drain the world of colour like this. As he became more aware, various sounds started filtering back in as well. The violent crash of the ocean, now layered with the patter of constant rain hitting the sand, the wood, the never ending waves ahead. And directly above him, Hank yelling his name, distraught.

The confused android stepped out from under the deck to look up. Relief flooded them both as they made eye contact.

"Fuck, Con, are you crazy? Get inside! And where's my dog?"

Connor's haze cleared and his memories resurfaced. His view drifted to where he'd left the gate on the stairs wide open as he had been focused on retrieving the nails. Hank followed the direction he was looking at and the realisation trickled in. He cursed as he ran down to join Connor on the sand. More dread had clouded him. He was supposed to be such an advanced model. Why did he keep acting like this.

Hank put his hands around his mouth and yelled for Sumo. A gust of wind drove an extra sheet of rain onto them both. Connor looked down. He was already soaking wet. How long had it been raining?

"Sumo! Jesus Christ, he- come back! Sumo!"

The desperate panic on the man's face felt like just another nail in the coffin. Connor was responsible for all of this. He'd been a cold, useless machine, a disappointment for his police station and the hospital, he'd let down Richard, the Kamski's, and this one person who'd been willing to understand, repeatedly. He was only a source of destruction. He hurt people. He should just-

Connor looked back to the ocean. The water had darkened significantly. Grey and angry, it crashed upon the shore, before dragging itself back into that mass of whirling nothingness. He watched a strand of twisted seaweed get pushed and pulled helplessly and felt that deep impulse to walk into the current and let go.

Hank grasped him by the shoulder and shook him, forcing eye contact again before he spoke.

"Get back inside! It's not safe! I need to go find him!"

Lightning flashed overhead. Connor took in the man's appearance. His hair was already turning into flat, wet streaks, and his short beard was dripping. In his worry and rush to find both the dog and the android, it looked like he had run out without putting a proper coat or even some shoes on. His chest was heaving beneath only a thin T-shirt. He shouldn't stay out in a rain storm like this. Connor grasped the man's hands before he could turn away.

"No wait," he brought out, "let me help-"

Hank looked in confusion as the android closed his eyes and stood in the sand unmoving. Though he couldn't hear it, Connor was emitting a high pitched trill to draw the dog back in.

"Fine, come on then, I'll go that way and you-"

"Just wait!"

He upped the frequency as much as he could. An electrical component low in his diaphragm started buzzing in protest, but he kept on casting the sound until he started feeling dizzy. Only a few seconds later came a distant barking from the dunes. The dog came bounding back towards them.

"Oh, thank God," Hank choked out, looking like he might start crying with relief. He made his way back to the stairs and the Saint Bernard obediently darted up. Hank then called out to Connor, who was still standing somewhat dazed and undecided, withdrawn from it all. His attention was once again pulled to that unrelenting tide. Even if at the surface it seemed violent, perhaps, once he was pulled under and fully submerged, sinking down on the drift would be gratifying...

A hand grabbed his upper arm and gave an insistent tug. Connor turned to see how Hank had come back out for him.

"Come on," the man pleaded, "you can't be out here. You're like, a walking lightning conductor."

So are humans, Connor thought. He felt unbalanced and untethered in the storm. His movements were still sluggish and difficult. He let himself be pulled back to the safety of the house. Hank pushed him up the stairs before following suit, hurrying them both into the sitting room before closing the doors tight.

They went from the moist and chilly air outside into an unsettingly intimate space. Only a single lamp cast its warm and comforting light from a distant corner. Connor stood awkwardly by the fireplace as Hank checked his dog over.

"Is- is he okay?"

The man got on his haunches to inspect the dog more closely. "Yeah. Yeah, seems like it."

Pure and broken emotion flooded the android. He felt himself choke up with it and enabled tension relief via tear ducts. He sobbed where he stood, tears mingling with the rainwater that was trickling down from his body and seeping into the rug. Hank got up and stepped close, though the man carefully refrained from touching him.

"What about- Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Connor whimpered and looked at the man, open and unguarded, tears still welling up without pause. "You... care about that?"

"Of course I-"

Hank breathed out a deep sigh, and the stress from before melted back into a tired defeat. How was he messing this up so badly? Time to own up and make things right again.

He wrapped his arms around the dejected android and pulled him in. Connor's frame sagged with relief, even if he kept crying in aborted gasps. Hank soothed his hands across those still convulsing shoulders. He pressed his mouth into the android's wet hair and murmured some pacifying words in a low voice.

Outside the sky rumbled deep. Rain pattered onto the entire house. The wind howled and tore at the hinged shutters, making them clatter where they were properly secured and slam where they weren't. The lights flickered. With one more crash and boom, the power went out. Sumo ran to the reception desk to hide. Some natural light still came in through the windows where they hadn't finished boarding up the main floor. It made the living room scene even more like a cocooon of safe harbouring in a sea of despondence.

Eventually, the crying faded into more subdued and soft hiccups. Connor noticed Hank moving to pull away again, and only tightened his grip in response. He scrunched up the man's wet shirt in both fists and kept them clenched tight. Though it felt selfish and stupid to do so, he turned his face again to the man's throat and nuzzled close, ducking slightly to fit comfortably under the man's chin and smearing them both with thirium-based tears in the process. He felt Hanks Adam's apple bob nervously as a reaction.

"Connor..."

The android hummed and closed his eyes. At this point, what did he have left to lose? He'd already bared everything he'd kept so painstakingly hidden. It was plain to see he was nothing but a shattered mess of a person. Might as well be upfront about this, too. He was growing tired of keeping things bottled up inside to eat away at him endlessly.

"Why can't you want me?" he spoke into the man's skin. "Because I want you. I really do."

After the briefest hesitation, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the stubble at Hank's throat. The man exhaled in a shudder. He had to clear his throat before being able to reply.

"Con, you shouldn't- I get that you're going through a lot right now, and maybe that's making you act on impulse-"

"And so what if it is? Am I not allowed to pursue what'd make me happier?"

The man awkwardly stretched behind him in an effort to reach and loosen Connor's hands. The android fleetingly let himself enjoy the way that pushed the man's chest and stomach forward in that still drenched T-shirt before he relented and let go of his own volition. Hank leaned back against a cluttered chest of drawers, quickly creating some space between them. Connor frowned at this, but the man didn't look up to notice his defiant expression.

"Look, kid, trust when I say you don't want me."

Connor's frown deepened. "You don't know what I want."

"You don't know what you're asking."

The android had to consciously stop himself from crowding back in. Why did they need to discuss the validity of his attraction when he could very easily prove it? This was becoming needlessly complicated.

"Tell me, then. Tell me what you're thinking."

Hank grimaced, at a loss for words. Where to begin? He shook his head, dragged a hand through his wet locks. Connor only waited, hoping this man would be willing to lower his defenses and meet on even ground again.

"Listen, I'm... I'm damaged goods."

Connor nodded. "Me too."

"No, you were not at fault, okay, you were following orders as you were programmed to do. As for the hospital shit, you didn't mean for any of that to happen. And you're constantly just self-effacing even now, running yourself into the ground trying to improve shit as you go. You're actively using your time to do good. You can still make a change, you're still-"

Hank became breathless, gestured wistfully at the android as a whole, who remained standing there and trying to understand.

"You're still young and able to turn shit around. And I'm - don't give me that face, I'm in my fifties, okay, I can't just - I mean sure, this has all been very flattering but you can quit your charade of actually, genuinely, wanting to-"

He stuttered and flushed red, unable to finish that sentence.

Connor decided to expand on the broached subject in his stead. "Is that what's bothering you? You've never bedded an android?"

Hank laughed nervously. "I mean, well, you've ever bedded a human?"

Connor's soft hum was self satisfied. "Yes. Several, in fact."

"Oh."

The rain kept pummeling down just outside.

A sigh. Connor felt his internal components heat up in shame at his attraction not being requited, though he tried his best to at least keep his composure. "Listen, if you don't care about me as a person, that's fine. I know I'm just an android and you could build a real relationship with any human you'd like. But I am genuinely interested in you, physically, and I thought I received some signs of you maybe feeling the same. I know I'm not a desirable party for anything long term, but if you'd be amenable to at least have a temporary fling, which I think you are, then you could do us both a favour and maybe admit that instead of playing with my already oh so brittle state of being."

It was terrifying to be this open, but at the same time extremely liberating. It left the android panting in how worked up he'd gotten. The human only stared in shock. The longer the wait for a response, the more Connor felt himself grow even more embarrassed until his LED clicked and flickered into yellow. Something the human latched onto.

"Your colour shifted."

Connor brought a hand up to cover the clear emotional giveaway on his temple.

"If I have misinterpreted your intentions, I apologise. And if my attraction to you has made you uncomfortable, I can go."

Another clap of thunder sounded overhead, making the whole house quake with it. Sumo came darting back into the room and misjudged his trajectory due to the scramble of furniture. He bumped into a tall book case before scrabbling on to the dining area. Hank still watched the dog go and thus didn't notice the case sway dangerously. Even despite the distress, Connor acted on instinct. He surged forward, barreled into the man, and they both crashed onto the love seat as the shelves and thick volumes toppled down.

Hank looked up with eyes wide as he suddenly found himself on his back, the android on top of him with their faces mere inches apart. The sudden displacement had his heart racing while breathing hard. The android's gaze flit down to the man's parted lips before looking away chastised.

"Jesus," Hank panted with furrowed brow. "Thanks for that."

"You're welcome."

Neither made an attempt to move. It slowly dawned what type of position they were in. Connor's arms had caged the man in, but Hank's legs in turn bracketed where the android had landed. The cramped space of the two person seat kept their placement from being too lewd, not allowing for comfortable full body contact while lying down. Connor felt like he should probably move, but couldn't help but crave more touch. He was already so deep in this mess. Even now, he couldn't help but hope to be proven wrong, for his assumptions to be dissuaded. He steadily lowered more of his weight down and studied the man sprawled out below him.

"Or is it your own feelings that frighten you? Content to stick to your own role as a father, a friend, some unassuming innkeeper without underlying intentions or desire to complicate matters?"

The man looked him steady in the eye. Connor could feel his pulse quicken, signalling that maybe, he was on to something. He pressed on.

"Are you merely afraid I'll eventually lose interest and move on? That I'll leave you alone and rejected as I entertain myself with something better?"

Hank couldn't suppress the broken sound from his throat. With nowhere to hide, he struggled an arm between the two of them to cover his eyes with his hand. Connor was unrelenting.

"Why deny yourself a chance to connect while you can? Why commit to drifting independent and loose from others when you don't have to?"

Hank exhaled heavily. Could he really have this? Could he be allowed to?

Oh, fuck. Fuck it all.

He looked up again to the android and saw a soft and broken look in his eyes which he was sure his own reflected right back. He held that gaze for a few honest seconds. Then the man slowly lifted his chin, bringing his mouth as close as he could, He still came an inch short.

Connor's eyebrows lifted incredulously as he considered at the man below him. Was he?

Hank kept looking right back at him. His eyes stayed soft and vulnerable. In response to Connor's slightly bewildered glance, he only nodded.

The android met him the rest of the way and cautiously pressed his lips against the man's, almost in disbelief that they got to this outcome after all. He barely even dared to push this any further. Hank had to be the one to deepen the kiss. As his tongue swept against the seam of the other's lips, Connor relaxed into it and sunk more into the man and the couch. Hanks hands came up to caress his face and card his fingers through the still damp and slightly curling brown hair. Connor held on to the man's shoulders in a daze. Gently felt the muscle there and massaged into it, unsure of what else he was allowed to do. Hanks eyes had drifted shut as he revelled in the kiss, especially as the android opened his own mouth and let it grow more filthy. Connor knew from experience it'd be creepy to keep his open but wow, this was actually happening now. He enjoyed finally being this close to the person he'd been craving so badly, and relished this close up look of the details in his face. Staring could break the mood, though. As Hank bit down on his lip, the android let his eyes close as well and laser focused on tactile processing. It was just as good as the visual stimulus of this man truly wanting to kiss him. Unfortunately, after a few minutes, Hank's back twinged at the awkward and cramped seat. He dislodged himself and pressed back the slightly clouded, freshly ravished android.

"Hey, not that I'm not enjoying this but, could we move this elsewhere? My fucking spine-"

Connor blinked twice. "Right. Sure."

He scrambled up and then helped his makeout partner to his feet as well. Hank groaned and prodded at a spot low on his back. Connor's eyes flitted to one of the daybeds that'd been brought in from the deck and led them both towards it. There was just enough room between the surrounding furniture for them to get there and sit comfortably side to side. Once seated though, they seemed at a loss for how to proceed. Connor cocked an eyebrow and put a hand on the large cushion.

"If you want, I could massage that out for you. As you can imagine, with my extensive anatomical knowledge, I know which buttons to push to help alleviate physical stress."

"Um. I'm sure you do," Hank smiled back leniently. "No, though I should probably-"

He put a hand up against his rain-damp shirt, then spotted a sweater halfway across the room. He stood up, went over to the chair it was hanging off, and after brief hesitation, reached overhead for the collar of his shirt. He kept his back to the day bed as he quickly shifted out of one garment and into the other. He felt loads better already. Though he couldn't help but become a bit self-conscious as he turned back round to be faced with Connor's heated and appreciating gaze.

"Your pants are wet, too."

That made Hank snort. "You take it easy, kid."

Instead of rushing into things and tearing off his own clothes, Connor opted for trying to dry them by raising his body temperature. As Hank approached again, the android loosened a few of his top shirt buttons, gently took one of the man's hands and placed it on his mildly whirring chest. He looked up and tried to gauge Hank's reaction at being confronted with this thoroughly inhuman aspect of his body.

"Oh. That's kinda neat."

"I can warm you up, too."

They lowered themselves down to lie facing each other and stayed there for a moment in an exhilirating and expectant hush. Then, they resumed with slow kisses, Hank again being the one to draw near and instigate it. He was happy to languish in this, just feeling Connor's lips drag across his. Considering the android had fucked around - as he'd just been told - perhaps this didn't carry the same meaning for him. But Hank had to admit he'd been craving some contact. He couldn't imagine this event having the same type of deep-seated effect on Connor, but he was happy to have been given this either way. He couldn't let himself expect much more. He wasn't anything special, any way. Just some average washed-up fifty year old.

Soon enough, Connor grew more heated both literally and figuratively. Lying on his side left his hands free to wander, a situation he was making good use of. Having been granted permission, he now stroked down the man's arm, kneaded at the flesh in his side and pulled him closer by the hips. He kept Hank pleasantly distracted with a filthy kiss as he wedged a thigh between his legs and pressed up to the man's groin. Slowly, slowly. The android had to restrain himself from rolling them over so he could mount him properly. Still, he noticed the extended tongue kissing and groping was starting to have an effect.

He broke apart and gave the man some room to breathe as he moved to speak in his ear.

"You're growing hard."

Hank opened his eyes again and dropped his head back with an embarrassed groan, rolling away slightly. Connor kissed down that exposed neck. The man hissed as he felt just a hint of teeth.

"It's fine, leave it."

Connor rolled his hips into Hank's. "Are you sure?"

Hank gently put his hands on either side of the android's face and drew him up for another slow and heartfelt kiss. It melted away some of the excitement and brought them both back down to savour the moment.

"I'm sure. I'm more than happy just to have you like this."

Instant doubt once again took hold of Connor, even now he'd achieved what he wanted and was holding something precious in his hands. Had he misjudged the man's involvement and interest, still? Was he only indulging him out of some sense of amusement or pity? Happy to engage in a one time makeout session, but unwilling to stoop so low as to actually go any further with-

The slight vibration of the changing LED colour alerted Hank, his fingertip feeling this change before he saw it. He traced the slight indent where the light was imbedded.

"Is that okay with you?"

Instead of trying to provide an answer, the android returned to kissing down the man's throat, pulling the collar of his sweater aside to get at that delicious dip at the base between his collar bones. He was delighted to discover some of the moisture from before had been sweat from the exertion, and the android was keen to drag his tongue across the man's skin for a coarse bit of sampling. His attempt at providing a distraction failed.

"Connor? Talk to me?"

The android sighed in defeat, but stayed where he didn't have to submit to eye contact.

"Is that part of what bothers you? You look at me and consider I might be fuckable, until you see how clearly synthetic I am?"

He turned to rest his head against the man's chest, pressing his LED into the soft fabric and obscuring it from view altogether as he continued hesitantly.

"Are you... disgusted with me? Would I be more palatable, would you have been willing if only I could better pass for a natural human and..."

"What? Honey..."

Hank curled himself around the other man. Connor, surprised but immensely grateful, let himself be enveloped and kissed on the crown of his head. He couldn't help but choke out the rest of his doubts, since he was already on such a roll tonight.

"I'm sorry for being such a mess, somewhere in between human and android. It feels like even though I've broken from my programming, I'll never be a real person and I'll always be stuck this way. I'm no longer what I was before but I can't be- I know I'll always be falling somewhere outside both categories, and it's so nice of you to show consideration towards my feelings and not flat out say that you don't want me-"

"Of course I want you! Believe me when I say I want all of you." Hank instantly assured him. Connor gasped softly. "It's just- you're kind of rushing into this. Can you give a man some room to breathe."

"I'm sorry," was the watery reply.

"It really is fine. More than fine. I mean, you, hello? How could I not want-"

Hank gestured up and down the android, letting out a disbeliving laugh at having found himself in this position.

"I just think that you've been through a lot, today and like, in general, in the span of the last few months. I'd hate for you to rush into more things you'll feel all conflicted about later."

Connor put a steadying hand on the man's sternum. He got only slightly distracted at feeling some of the chest hairs poke through the fabric of that damned sweater.

"I wouldn't. Not about this."

Hank hummed low as he covered the android's hand with his own. "Can't help but feel concerned. You've got plenty on your plate already. But if you're serious about what you're proposing... you can ask me again, tomorrow."

"Tomorrow..." Connor groaned, pressing his face into the man's chest. That seemed like an eternity to wait. The thought of another blissful evening fading into the morning sun was a bleak prospect. He realised he would need to face some less pleasant tasks before he could submit himself again to this shared sensory delight.

"I should make things right with mr. Kamski, as well." he said.

"Yeah..." Hank admitted, "the way that went down was less than ideal."

Connor didn't want to face that. He wanted to stay buried between the man's pecs until his figurative batteries ran out.

"I just don't want to exacerbate things even more than I already have." The sentence came out slightly muffled.

Hank sighed and soothed a hand through the android's hair. This wasn't an easy situation to handle. He tried his best to compose a clear picture of the type of person Kamski could be, to imagine the widower's needs and what he'd hoped for when he contacted the person who'd been with his wife as she'd slipped away.

"Look, the guy is some tech genius. He's attuned to logical thinking, and death is just- not. What he said earlier... maybe he's genuinely still trying to find a flaw to explain and rationalise what happened. Or maybe that's an easy segue to get into what's actually bothering him in his grief. Can't be sure. Maybe we just need to hear him out, so he can get whatever it is off his chest himself."

Connor did look up at that. "We?"

Hank's heart picked up speed again. "I mean, only if you- I get it if you'd rather not have me there, but, if you want support or somethin' then I wouldn't mind-"

"I would like that."

"... Okay." He smiled a little crookedly in relief. "Okay, good."

Connor then got up on his elbows to shoot the man a painful look. "Though I am still worried about messing it up. Constantly just messing it up and leaving destruction wherever I go."

Hank drew him in and lathered the android's face with slow, reverent kisses, moving from forehead down his nose, back over a cheek and to the LED on the side.

"Just the fact that you care," he murmured, "that you'd want to try to make it right, that his feelings matter to you when it'd be easier to walk away... That shows so much strength and growth. You should be proud of how much effort you've already put into changing yourself for the better."

Connor felt an immense rush of affection course through his circuits and he could only react by kissing this man again. Though this startled a surprised exhale, the motion was returned and soon grew more frenzied. Soon enough, Connor drew back and displayed his most efficient bedroom eyes.

"Are you sure you don't want anything else from me."

Hank chuckled. "Please, just let me hold you for now."

The physical comfort was accepted gladly. They snuggled in close trading the occasional kiss until eventually, the human drifted off to sleep. Connor only dislodged himself from Hank's arms to retrieve a blanket. The same from the night before, he noted. So much had happened since then. He draped it over the man before shimmying back into his former position. The quiet shelter of the Inn washed over him. The raging storm outside simmered down until he heard only the occasional bout of rain pattering against the side of the house. Inside, the power cut had ceased all electrical humming. The most noticeable sound was the human's soft breathing beside him. They were in the same bed. They were sleeping together. Connor still couldn't quite believe he'd been allowed this.

He moved impossibly closer and made sure they were both in a comfortable position before slipping into standby mode.


	5. Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to gaze across the waves of Rodanthe or visit the very same pier Connor and Hank do in this chapter, then you can check out the following two live feeds of the region :) I know I sure did while writing this monster of an update lol
> 
> surfchex.com/cams/rodanthe-web-cam/ & rodanthepierllc.com/webcam

  
Connor woke up alone. And looking a bit frumpled, with his clothes having dried in creases overnight. Equally messy hair curled over one eye, and he pushed it back groggily. The android sat up disoriented as his functions rebooted to take in his surroundings. He put a hand on the daybed and engaged his heat sensors. The material was approaching room temperature, though the discarded blanket still held a bit more warmth. Hank couldn't have left too long ago. Why hadn't he-

No, no need to panic straight away. There could be many possible reasons.

As he got synched up again with the smart house system, Connor tested and succeeded in turning on a nearby table lamp. Still loading, he groggily made his way over to the kitchen to check on the fridge contents. He opened the door and touched his finger to a lonely tub of greek yoghurt. Cold. It seemed like the electicity had come back on some time during the night.

Sumo entered, probably drawn in by the sound of the refrigerator door opening. Connor couldn't help but smile as he crouched down to give the dog some friendly rubs before checking to see if his bowl was filled. It was fully cleaned out. He tested some of the leftover crumbs and found them to be stale. His concern rose steadily. It seemed unlike Hank to skip feeding the dog, especially since he had been so worried about his wellbeing the night before. The android decided to fulfil this task in his place.

It wasn't until he looked outside that the real impact of last night's weather dawned on him. They'd been fully sheltered in the living room, but the beach was littered with debris of various origins. It seemed like a mixture of items ripped and carried off by the powerful gusts of the storm, and larger components of the shacks that had been too close to the water, chunks of which had been dragged off and subsequently washed up again by the wind-swollen tide. Connor could discern a windowsill with most of the window still attached, a bright yellow plastic duck, a multicoloured beach towel halfway swallowed up by the sand, a rusty weather vane and some roof shingles that may or may not be theirs. He wondered if the Inn had made it through more or less unscathed and decided to verify this immediately. Perhaps he'd find his missing house mate along the way.

Connor made his way to the hall and then straight upstairs into the turret. Reaching the top level was a relief. All the storm guards were still in place, with light streaking in between the slim blinds. It seemed like all these precious art works (his eye briefly lingered on both the blue and the dune-set painting) had made it through the night. Though the third level was off-limits to guests, he paused to check on the maintenance, storage and private rooms he'd only had a brief look at through the windows the day before. Everything was safe and unscathed. Back on the second level, Connor briefly peeked into the white and blue bedrooms before pausing outside yellow. Hank's private quarters. Had he retreated back there to sleep alone? Get a change of clothes? Perhaps to take a revitalising morning shower?

The android's inner hardware kicked into a low thrum when he thought back to the night before in detail, especially on where they had ended it. He replayed again the sensory input of kissing that man. Feeling the slight prickle of his beard with lips and fingertips, the low vibrations when he'd softly groaned in pleasure. His scent, how he secretly tasted, and the way he _l_ _ooked_ when he'd finally initiated those kisses and then kept coming back for more, even as he'd grown more tired, making the near constant interchange of looks and kisses softer until he'd fallen asleep where they'd willingly lain themselves down.

Connor still felt a bit light-headed at being given permission to witness this side of Hank. He could barely believe that he had breached this threshold, that he'd been granted now to be close to him in both an emotional and - Connor still rememered with a flush - intimately physical sense. Perhaps that meant he'd be given access to this now, too. In the daylight.

He knocked on the door. Then again, when met with over five seconds of silence. Was it okay to? Connor tried the handle, and found the door to be unlocked as he opened it with ease. His gaze swept across the room. Even with the guards still up and the space darkened, it was easy to see that there was no one here. Nor in the adjoining bathroom. He resisted the temptation of perusing Hank's personal belongings to head back to the main level and double check. Hall and reception, stuffed living area, dining, kitchen, he even stopped to knock on the door for Carl's private quarters, though somewhere Connor already knew there'd be no response from the man he was looking for. He stepped back past the bed they'd shared for the night and out onto the deck to take the stairs down. The sun glared bright upon the ravage all around. It made for a stark contrast with the day before, how moody and overcast things had seemed then. Though there was still something unsettling and tired about the vista: the clear cloudless sky all rained out, the sawgrass buried where the tempest had carved long and violent grooves, the broken and washed up items erratically scattered all around. Especially since Connor was left to gauge this damage on his own.

Sumo ambled up to the android's side. Well. He wasn't _all_ alone, he supposed. He guided the dog down to the carport space on the ground level. Much like everything, it was awash with sand. But it seemed they'd done a solid job with securing all items down here. Though some of the extra leashes had been disturbed and had fallen from their wall hooks, none even seemed to be missing. Connor picked one out and guided the Saint Bernard off, though at a slow walking pace this time.

The dog was the first to find his owner, more attuned to the man than Connor had managed to achieve in the past few days he'd spent here. One moment they were walking through some denser bushes and dunes upon the beach, the next they'd reached another open view of the sea, which included a figure sitting slumped by a broken skiff. Connor again registered his internal circuits kicking into a higher gear. He was starting to get used to it. Though he felt the need to temper his bout of enthusiasm as the dog pulled him closer to Hank. Something about that defeated posture, and the fact that he seemed to be doing nothing but sit there and stare at the sea, warned him on something being off.

The android side stepped a stray folding table tangled in seagrass and approached carefully as to not startle the man. That seemed to not be an issue. He barely responded as his dog came up to excitedly nuzzle at his hands and face. Connor slowly lowered himself beside Hank, not sure how close he should sit. He noticed the man was, like him, still wearing the same clothes from the previous night. He was still deciding on how to start the conversation when Hank spoke up.

"The phones were out last night. The landline."

Connor processed this, then nodded slowly. Yes. The power had been out. "It's all come back on now."

"I know. I checked the messages."

Hank's face set into something grim. Connor traced a fingernail along his trousers' side seam, itching for something to fiddle with.

"Hank? What's the matter?"

The reply came out impassive and disconnected. "On the way back from the amusement park, they got into a car crash. Ashley's been callin' me like crazy."

Connor felt as though from one moment to another, he had been completely drained of his thirium reserves.

"Is- is Cole..."

"He got a whiplash. Some bruises from the seatbelt and on his arms and legs. The doctors say he probably doesn't have a concussion, but they're still keeping him under observation to exclude any doubt."

"That's... good," Connor prompted, relieved but not sure why Hank still seemed so tense despite this news. Working in surgery meant the android had seen a lot worse in his relatively short life span so far. He tentatively reached out and touched Hank's forearm. The man immediately withdrew, dragged a hand through his hair and shifted from the android in agitation. He was gearing up to say more.

"Did you know cordless phones are still fine in a storm? That you can take a cell phone call no problem?"

Connor put his hands in his lap and tried to keep up. "Yes. Did you not have a cellular phone?"

"I did. It was up in my room all night, ringing."

Ah.

"Hank..."

"While I was busy acting like some dumb, horny teenager, my son was scared and crying in hospital, needing comfort. Jesus, I thought being a dad was the _one thing_ in life I got right, and I-" He got too worked up to continue talking, reverting to heavy breathing instead. Sumo went to sit between the man's bent legs, looking up curiously. Connor tried to come up with a way to offer support of his own. Logic kicked in.

"It wasn't your fault, Hank. There was no way for you to have known what'd happened. You're not a bad father just because you didn't check your phone for one night."

Hank got up in exasperation, kicked a forlorn and waterlogged book which stood crookedly wedged in the sand at his feet. He vented more of his pent-up energy in pacing back and forth.

"Look, last night, when we- maybe for you, that was all exciting, turn on an old man, get some action in before you pack your shit and move halfway 'cross the globe to enjoy your freedom, but _I can't just_ -"

He exhaled in a heavy shudder in an effort to calm himself down. The Saint Bernard resettled himself nearby, patiently in wait for were this was heading, as was Connor.

"I have ties here, my job, my _kid_ , I can't afford to be spontaneous at this point in life. I have to be responsible and stable in the roles I've chosen to take on, I do something impulsive for once and look what happened-"

Connor stood and placed himself directly into the path of the pacing man. The surprise was enough to stop him in his tracks, and Connor swooped in for a hug. Even though Hank was about two or three inches taller, the android tried his best to cradle the man in his arms for comfort. He wondered, since Hank seemed so resolutely preoccupied with his own percieved responsibilities to protect, if there had ever been someone equipped and earnestly commited to keeping _him_ safe in turn.

Perhaps it was the wrong move to make. He could feel the tension Hank still carried and thought he might break away again and reserve himself to suffer alone. But then, as Connor started to gently caress his fingers across the man's back, he could feel him succumb and crumple as if in slow motion. Hank dropped his head forward, leaning more into the android supporting him, and took a shaky breath in. Connor made use of this pause to speak up.

"It's okay," he soothed, "he's okay. He knows you love him."

Connor wished he, too, could've devoted himself to this man and earn to be loved so truly and thoroughly in return. He felt Hanks arms snake around his waist and let this human draw him as close as he was willing to admit to needing right now.

"And last night meant more to me than that. You- are so incredible, Hank. I've never fallen for someone so fast, so hard. I can barely make sense of it, nor control myself... Look, I'm sorry that I kept you distracted and you missed those notices as a result. I'm sorry that the people you care about were in hospital, stressed and worried and not knowing why you weren't answering their calls. And I'm so sorry to see you hurt right now, self flagellating, convinced you are somehow a bad person even though it's so clear to me that you aren't. But I'm not sorry about kissing you. Not in the slightest. It's something I'd like to do more in fact, for as long as you'll allow me to. For longer than my current stay."

Hank in- and exhaled deeply. His breath seemed to be steadying again as he brought up a hand to toy with the android's messily dried curls. Connor steeled himself, putting his own desire on the backburner to attend to what he suspected Hank might need most of all, in this situation.

"But I understand if you need to go to him. I'll be okay. I'll figure something out."

That was a white lie. In truth, he scrambled to think what he was supposed to do with himself until the time of his flight the next day. Was there even a reason for staying here if he couldn't stay with Hank? He'd messed it up with Kamski, who might not want to see him again, and now, the thought of Hank leaving... He wasn't sure about where he should go if he couldn't stay at the Inn. Perhaps he could seek shelter at one of the abandoned houses on the beachfront, go into standby until a full day had passed and then move on. He wasn't particularly keen on leaving the shore to stay somewhere closer to the airport.

Hank hesitated, rubbed a hand into his eyes and sighed.

"No, you're right. I'm overreacting. Ashley told me not to worry about it, that we can't do much else besides wait at the moment." He felt for his phone, the movement coming slow and drained still. "Plus, I got to speak to Cole for a few minutes. He's looking forward to seeing me tomorrow afternoon."

Something inside the android stuttered. Though he'd always been aware of the deadline of his stay, something about hearing Hank mention this made him realise in a truly cementing type of way that they'd gotten down to their final twenty-four hours together. Tomorrow morning, he was leaving Rodanthe. Hank would follow soon after. By the time Connor arrived at his destination, Hank would be back home with his son, all settled back into normal life as if the past few days had never happened. But he realised it's where the man belonged.

Connor drew back in full. Hank's gaze followed him in soft confusion at the brusque movement. When they locked eyes, he saw the android's had a sincerity to them as he spoke.

"I mean it, though. Please, don't feel like you have to stay on my account. If you need to be with your son right now, I won't keep you. I can go."

Hank took this into consideration. For a long few seconds they only stared at one another, taking in this offer and letting sink in what this sacrifice meant to both. The answer came gentle and forgiving, as Hank turned to face vaguely in the direction of the Inn.

"You can help me take the guards back down."

They worked until the early afternoon to sweep the worst of the sand off the wraparound porch and take down the storm gear together. Window by window and step by step, they removed the bracing planks, took off the storm panels, and opened the shutters and windows alike to let some air back into the house. Nothing much needed saying. They were both content to bask in each other's easy company while working on the joint task. On the higher levels, Hank steadied the android by putting his hands on his sides. After a brief electric jolt, Connor allowed himself to lean into the touch while trying to focus on prying loose the nails they'd hammered in the day before. He tried not to fry his systems as he felt Hanks thumbs shyly draw circles where he was held safely.

At last, they finished hauling down the storm gear and put it all back in ground level storage for the next time this heavy weather would hit. Connor felt something flutter inside as Hank locked up the space regular guests never got access to, turned and smiled. He wiped at the sweat on his brow. "Do you have the time, Con?"

Connor checked his inner clock. "Yes. It is high time we get you something to eat."

Hank laughed. "Damn straight. Come on."

He clapped Connor on the shoulder and let his hand linger as they made their way back to the stairs. Though the android didn't require food, they both sat down in the dining area where Hank had some quick sandwiches. They settled back into a companionable quiet. Somewhere halfway through the meal, the android slid a foot forward to touch Hank's under the table. The man kept eating, but did send a short and pleased look across. Connor leaned back in his chair, taking in the shiny trinkets on the shelves, the way the curtains moved in the wind now that the space had opened up again, and of course, he took in the man before him as he ate his lunch contently. Having resolved so many things, the main leftover issue started to make itself known again and bore just that shred heavier on Connors shoulders. One of his hands started shifting a stray crumb back and forth on the table as he thought on how to broach the topic. His foot nudged Hank in that sweet little time frame between having finished a satisfying meal and needing to get back up to gather the dishes.

"Hank?"

"Hmm?"

"I was wondering... I thought I'd better visit with mr. Kamski again, this afternoon. It's probably safe to say the brothers are done now with getting their house back in order, as well. You're in no way obligated to come with me and I can probably manage fine on my own, but yesterday you _did_ mention and, well, I was wondering-"

Hank reached forward to cover Connor's hand with his own. The look in his eyes was calming and sincere as he gave his answer.

"I'll gladly come with you. We should probably shower first, though."

Connor's heart lurched both at the thought of showering and coming together. He was also smart enough to know he was willfully misconstruing the statement. Still, to hear the confirmation that Hank would go along as an emotional support had him buzzing within.

"Okay, great. Thank you. Would half an hour be enough?"

"Half an hour would be fine."

The decision to bike their way over meant they pulled up to the Kamski residence shortly after three pm. They dismounted at the jagged line where the hardened main road ended and the private property began. Aside from the disorganised scatter of sand and a few snapped or toppled trees, most of the surrounding area seemed to have made it through the storm without damage. Some short distance ahead lay the house still like a slumbering beast, dark and foreboding by the lagoon. Connor took a deep breath in and out again as he scanned his environment from the house to the outbuilding and back. At least the younger Reed was nowhere in sight. Still, the android hesitated to step forward. Even when consciously sending the command to his limbs, there seemed to be a psycological blockage holding him back.

Hank picked up on this and placed an arm around the android. He stepped in close to murmur words of comfort.

"Are you okay? Y'know, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. You could still, I don't know, send him an e-mail or something."

"No... no, it'll be fine." Connor turned towards him just slightly. "Thank you."

While approaching the house, the front door unlocked and in the opening appeared none other than the man they'd been meaning to see. He was looking slightly better than the day before. Hair wet and loose, freshly washed. He was dressed in a dark knee-length robe. The two stopped in their tracks, one hesitating on how he'd be received, the other determined to stick close either way. Kamski fixed them both with a cool and steady gaze. He then stepped back and gestured for them to come inside.

Without a word, they followed him through the entryhall into a spacious living area. Connor couldn't help but be impressed as he took it all in. The space was large, and the minimalistic decorating only made it seem more so. Dominant colours were black, red, and different shades of grey, offset with the occasional shine of stainless steel or bronze. The floor was of a dark hardwood spanning across. In the middle of the room, it sunk a few feet into a modern conversation pit with bright red seats. The most impressive feature however was the far wall directly ahead, which was entirely made of glass. It overlooked the calm waters of the Pamlico Sound and bathed the room in afternoon light. Connor was momentarily caught up in the view and didn't immediately notice the figure righting itself in the pit at his feet. He was brought back into the moment when he felt Hank's hand tighten on his upper arm. He looked down to see the other Reed glaring up at them both from where he'd been peacefully reading his e-magazine. Ah.

"What're _you_ doing here? Haven't you done enough harm?"

"Chill out, Gav," Elijah commented, pouring himself a drink. "I did invite him to come, after all."

"That was before he pulled yesterday's little stunt." His hands tightened on the screentop, making the image of Tech Addict warp in its depiction.

"Well, deal with it. It's my house. I can decide whether he comes in or not."

The younger brother tsked before scrambling out of the seating area and pacing briskly to the window panes. He slid one aside, threw a pointed look at Elijah, and exited the house to continue his reading elsewhere. Kamski himself didn't seem perturbed in the slightest. Connor hesitated only a moment before leaning into Hank, who automatically mirrored the gesture.

"Perhaps you should join him out there."

Hank's gaze shifted to the man by the drinks bar and back. "You sure?"

"Yes. I'll be fine. I know you'll be right outside, should I need you."

He dawdled for only a second, then pressed Connor's arm reassuringly and followed Gavin outside. He slid the door closed behind him.

Kamski turned back and coolly studied his guest, who remained politely where he stood.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you."

Glass in hand, he gestured towards the sunken area. Connor walked to the stainless steel treads to descend and took a hold of the handrail. His mind jolted when in contact with this type of material again. The cold, shiny metal reminded him too much of his standard hospital tools, which in this setting definitely threw him off. He made it to the angular seats without betraying the mild discomfort. The homeowner stepped directly onto the pillows to join him, coming to sit only three, four foot away. Connor hoped this was a good sign. It was a wish he clung to as the moment stretched and Kamski remained silent, simply studying the android in front of him as he swirled his drink. Connor grew self conscious, hoping he woudln't start making some weird internal sounds or flicker yellow under the scrutiny. He slipped a hand in his trouser pocket to retrieve the silver key chain Hank had gifted to him. The fidgeting helped him channel some of the stress he was experiencing. Elijah only watched. Connor supposed that was fair. He should be the first to speak, now.

"To start, I'd very much like to apologise for yesterday. My behaviour was- less than ideal."

The man pointedly raised an eyebrow, then took a sip.

Connor was scrambling, trying to think of what else he had to offer. Anything, to make this right.

"If you still wish to go through my code, that's a procedure I'll consent to."

Kamski shook his head, leaned forward to place his drink on the white sidetable before pulling his feet up on the cushions and facing Connor directly.

"Perhaps not. I happen to know medical androids keep backup files on their performance, and I know sooner or later I'd want to give in and access that video file... Even despite the apprehension and doubts on whether I could handle seeing Chloe-"

Merely thinking about it made him halt, betraying that though he might look a great deal better than he had the day before, there was still a lot troubling him beneath the surface. Even when confronting this on his own familiar turf. Connor gracefully gave the man some privacy, looked down at where his thumb traced the grooves of the sand dollar until Elijah spoke up again.

"I'd prefer if you just talked to me yourself."

Connor nodded. That much, he could do.

"She was badly injured. You-" his eyes shifted to Kamski. "You know she was."

Stills and footage of the news coverage flashed across his mind, the recollection coming automatically. Mrs. Kamski had always been the more charismatic of the pair, the friendly face many had come to associate with the company through its clever PR. But mr. Elijah Kamski had always been there, still, even if it'd been mainly her in the spotlight. They'd been a well-oiled machine, a two-headed force to be reckoned with in both developing and promoting their product. He'd stood right beside her during every public appearance, both at the start of their conjoined careers and a mere few months ago.

One photo in particular came to mind from that day - a perfectly captured still of the moment right after. Central, a vacant rostrum, surrounded by people looking down, back, ahead into the sea of anonymous onlookers. A scene of people in their formal winter wear, caught mid realisation of what had just happened and gearing into a reaction of fight or flight. One figure standing frozen in the turmoil, just slightly off center. One of the few people with clear specks of red on him, but with such an expression of shocked dread that made him incomparable with anyone else in frame. Already, there had been talk of the photojournalist being a strong contender for photo of the year.

He tried to be as delicate as possible. Connor estimated mr. Kamski didn't want him here for any coddling or pity. But he still wanted to handle the truth gracefully and with due respect.

"We tried. I tried. The programming executed itself flawlessly. All the AI synched up, and we worked fast and harmoniously. Mrs. Kamski was kept stable as we-"

He mentally reviewed the arduous process of working on that huge gaping wound, pulsing, oozing blood, the android on his right almost endlessly picking out shrapnel and bone fragments as the one on his left spent his entire part of the operation patching individual blood vessels. Sodden gauze piling up in one kidney dish after another. A sternfaced Richard hard-set on trying to salvage what Connor could already sense was a lost cause.

"As we tried to make progress on bringing her back. Her life balanced on the edge for hours. We did all we could. In the end, the damage was too severe to fully recover from. She slipped from our care. And I- I'm _sorry_. I am _so_ sorry for your loss."

That was the biggest truth, beyond the objective facts. This woman had personally sparked Connor's life in her hands, only to end up dying prematurely in his. The android tried to not get overwhelmed or choked up. This wasn't about him. This was about mr. Kamski. He could not let his weakness show and force the widower to comfort _him_ , of all possible outcomes.

Elijah exhaled on a shudder. Connor wasn't sure on how to proceed - should he reach out a hand? Offer more words of comfort? He pressed the pad of his thumb into the keychain harder. Elijah broke the silence himself, giving more context to his viewpoint.

"I was hoping there'd been a malfunction. A clear error in the margin to be compartmentalised, to reasonably blame it on. Even if the hospital clung to its plausible deniability and legally protected case report. I need to know whether that's the case or not. Can you tell me, not as a medical android but one man to another... that you're stating the unfiltered truth when claiming you gave your full dedication. That no mistakes on the AI's part were made in the time you spent trying to save her."

Connor looked the man steady in the eye. There was something broken hiding right there, just behind a thin veneer of barely present composure. He knew the answer would shatter the straw the man was clutching, yet he was bound to answer truthfully. There was nothing else left to be done now that he'd come so far.

"Yes." was the statement clearly made.

Kamski nodded. He kept on nodding as this sank in. He reached blindly for his glass, but missed.

"Then perhaps- if only I'd programmed that interconnection more efficiently, or designed optimal manual dexterity to improve your chances-"

Connor made use of his already state of the art manual capabilities to put a hand on Elijah's knee. The man was interrupted in his spiralling, compelled to look into those warm, brown eyes gazing earnestly into his.

"There's nothing either of us could have done to change that. Her fate was sealed the very second that shot was fired."

A moment of stunned silence. Then, mr. Kamski steeled himself, withdrew from the comforting hand to retrieve his phone from a side table. He wiped at a stray strand of hair, then unlocked the screen and pulled up his compilated albums.

"Maybe you've heard this story before. Chloe and I were childhood sweethearts. She always had this passion for others, for the common good. She had always known she wanted to improve people's lives, and I had always known I _had_ to marry her. I could barely believe I was allowed to have her with me. The day I became mr. Kamski was the happiest day of my life. The day we founded Cyberlife was a close second. I know she felt the same. Everything I did, it was all for her. It was all to help her grow into the person she was destined to be."

Connor politely leaned in to lend his attention to this man who was desperate for connection, for someone to share in his grief. He dedicated himself to taking in her image: her smile, the comforting and easy going aura she exuded even from the old, unmoving photographs. The ease with which she carried herself in the short video clips, the warmth in her vibrant eyes every time she noticed the camera and the person filming her. Though Connor had always had some basic built-in information on the founders, he now committed fully to gaining this limited knowledge on the couple behind the elusive name and image. He recognised it as a sign of mutual trust and respect, to be allowed in to see this.

"When the deviation spread, her love for all of you grew even more. I was more than willing to keep my distance - we'd been retired from the company for years and it was no longer our problem, we'd been living a happy life here - and yet she convinced me to take a stand with her. To help protect the life we'd created. She knew it was the right thing to do. That we had a responsibility, a duty we couldn't walk away from, and that our voice could help tilt the balance in the androids' favour completely. I don't think I could've stopped her if I'd wanted to. In a way, I'm glad I was there with her, every step of the way. But to see her die on account of her compassion, when I would've taken that bullet for her in a heart beat, when by all rights it _should've_ been me who-"

Again, talking became too much. Shoulders sagging, the man looked down to the screen he held cradled in his hands. On display, the image looped of his wife on a wooden pier, the sun low in the sky behind her. She turned to face the camera, laughed, and came closer. In the final few seconds of the recording, she ducked to the side and out of frame with a mischievous grin. Then reappeared at the end of the pier to again turn around and rediscover her husband coming up to meet her.

Connor finally spoke. "Thank you for sharing this with me."

"Yes..." halfway through another loop, Elijah shut off the device and put it aside. "Thank you for listening."

Hank stepped outside and slid the door closed behind him. Gavin hadn't gotten far. He was just up ahead, sitting on the edge of a private pier overlooking the lagoon in their backyard. Hank glanced back to the Kamski residence, where he saw Connor gingerly make his way into the extravagant conversation pit. Maybe it was a good idea to give them some space, rather than stay plastered against the windows to ensure no new damage was done to the android's chassis. Gavin had been that perpetrator, any way.

So Hank sighed, then decided he might as well go along with it. He followed the trail from stone to dirt to wooden slats and came closer to his colleague, who'd put his magazine aside to light up a cigarette. The man rolled his eyes as he heard heavy footsteps draw near, then looked up and over his shoulder.

"Didn't expect to see you two again, after the whole fiasco at the Inn."

"Yeah, well. Your brother clearly still had some things on his mind that needed voicing. Connor figured he should do the right thing and hear him out."

"Oh, how _very considerate_ of him."

He turned back to look across the water. Hank stayed on his feet, facing the same way. The silence lingered for a bit until Gavin spoke up again, irritated at having his privacy be intruded upon.

"If you wanted to bum a cig or something, then tough shit. You're not getting one."

"I don't want anything from you, thanks. Tryin' to quit."

The man sitting down took a long drag, then blew out the smoke in puffs. There was something smug about even that mannerism.

"What, the Traci don't like the taste of you after?"

Just one solid kick, Hank thought. Just one solid kick and he'd be facedown in the water with a soggy cigarette he could kindly choke on.

"It's not like that."

Gavin snickered. "Sure."

Hank took a deep breath in and out while redirecting his gaze across the whole landscape, starting up close and moving further away. Small waves rippled and lapped at the shore. A great blue heron was pecking at something in the shallow water up ahead. In the far distance, he could just discern a small group of kayakers making their way across, maybe to a restaurant or to check on some of their friends and neighbours. It all evoked the feeling of a peaceful slow life in these coastal lowlands. Hank didn't feel like getting into the familiar jabbing back and forth with his annoying colleague. Not here. Not while Connor was going through so much trouble trying to patch things up inside the house. No, he could keep things civil. His eye fell on the Tech Addict which Gavin had put aside.

"So what're ya reading?"

He bent down, but the younger man was quicker and snatched the mobile device out of reach.

"That's none of your business, Anderson."

Hank couldn't help but grow irritated.

"You got some typa problem, Reed? Anything you wanna share with the class?"

The man took a few more seconds to finish his cigarette, then agitatedly stubbed it out and dropped the butt in an ashtray that'd been affixed to one of the pier's end pillars.

"Actually, you know what? Fine."

He got up and brushed past Hank, who after a second or two followed him in the direction of the house. He was already bracing himself as Gavin came closer to the window panes, ready to intervene should the man start something, except he then turned to the side and marched over to the outbuilding a bit further along on the property. Hank shot a look back over his shoulder. He didn't much like not being in the direct line of sight should he be needed, but tried to reason with himself he was just overly concerned without proper grounds. The android would be fine.

He turned back in time to see Gavin enter a six digit code into a small side panel, prompting the automatic door to slide open. They stepped inside, and Gavin flicked on the lights of the windowless space. Hank felt his mouth drop as a huge panel on the far wall was activated and pushed forward.

Suspended were three android bodies in various states of assembly. Two were dressed in simple, identical dresses. The third was only in a bra. Which made sense, considering she was only a head, half a torso and a left arm. All three wore their hair in a neat, blonde pony tail. Hank was hesitant to step closer, but Gavin moved towards them with unceremonious ease. The man was uncharacteristically careful in his movements as he reached for some kind of trigger at the back of the neck of the android closest to them. The LED flickered to life as the woman gained consciousness. A hydraulic arm gently lowered her to the ground as she fixed her eyes on the man in front of her and smiled.

"Good afternoon, Gavin."

"Hey, Chlo. How're you feeling?"

"Calibrating."

Both men stood in silence as she finished rebooting. Though Hank's was in awkward fruitlessness as he stayed back, his colleague was simply waiting patiently for more.

"Systems functional. I am well, thank you. How are you?"

The man cleared his throat. "I'm fine, Chloe. Say hello to our visitor."

She scanned the room from left to right and back again. On her third pass, Hank took a tentative step forward. She seemed to register the movement and he could hear a slight shuttering sound as she stared blankly into his face.

"Uh, hello," he prompted.

A beat of silence.

"Good afternoon, Joseph."

"No, Chloe-" Gavin reached behind to feel whether the plug at the center of her back was properly attached. With a frown, he tapped some information into a touch screen panel on the wall.

"Good afternoon, Adam."

Jesus Christ. Hank felt his heart drop as he glanced towards Gavin, who kept fiddling with the data.

"Chloe, run facial identification software. Can you- Anderson, step into the fucking light, yeah?"

Hank silently made his way over until he was only a good three, four feet removed from the android. It felt invasive to step any closer. She fixed him with a smile.

"Good afternoon, Robert."

Gavin slammed a fist against the wall in defeat. Hank kept himself concentrated on the android, not wanting to escalate this by focusing on the man and unwantingly embarrassing him. He studied her face closely as she peered up with that unfreezing smile. She seemed like an exact copy. Visually more lifelike than any android he'd ever laid eyes on. When interacting, however...

"Thanks, Chloe," Gavin finally sighed. His gestures softened again as he input another command on the panel. "You can sleep now."

"Good night."

She powered off. The arm retracted again, lifting her back into place among her copies. Hank was at a loss as for what to say. The words slipped out without any conscious forethought.

"So uh, I can see Elijah's been handling her death pretty standard."

Gavin slumped over a bit, kept his back turned as he admitted to the gravity of the issue.

"He hasn't been coping well. At all. Been working on this shit for ages. I come down as often as I can to keep an eye on him, take over the work so he can get some downtime..."

"He's trying to... replace his wife?"

Gavin scowled. "What he's _trying_ to do is gain back some control. To get at least some part of her back. You ever witnessed someone you love die right in front of you, with no power to do anything about it? You have no idea what it's been like for him. What kind of effect that'll have on a person."

Hank supposed he didn't. This was a lot, though. He inclined his head to the deactivated android.

"Why is she like that? Having trouble even with just, y'know."

Gavin shrugged one shoulder. "He started with the standard code, but of course that made her too robotic, distinctly non human. The dissonance nearly broke him all over. To first spend ages on recreating her image as best as he could, but then see all that work corrupted because the demeanor is so clearly not her... but the deviation patch added too much random variation, also preventing her from being an exact replica of the woman he wanted. He's been working on a more sophisticated upgrade, but that's taking up more data than the current hardware can handle. Can't even disconnect her from the power source for more than about fifteen minutes. We've been trying to improve on that, bit by bit."

Hank looked back and forth at the different models on the wall.

"Why make three of the same?"

Gavin was genuinely surprised. "You don't see the difference?"

Hank's gaze got stuck on the one missing most of her components. "Apart from the obvious? Not really."

"There's some slight variation. Lye keeps changing his mind on whether or not he remembers something right - her tone of voice, movement speed, hair texture, shit like that. Come to think of it, he's probably grilling your toy right now on the exact colour pattern of her eyes. We must've submitted a million pictures to the database trying to get it right, and still never got as close as what he looked right into yesterday. That was a pretty fucked up thing to do, by the way."

"Yeah," Hank sighed, rubbing a hand at his scruff. "It's just a giant fucking mess, really."

"Glad you caught on." With a few more taps on the smaller extended panel, the wall started to power down and retract. The two men made their way back out into the fresh and salty air.

Hank resumed his position close to the windows at the back of the house, leaving Gavin to go sit at the edge of the pier on his own. The sun still bore down on the idyllic scene. All activity from before had faded. The heron had scrounged a meal and flown off again. The distant kayakers had paddled on. There was something immensely sad about seeing his colleague against a backdrop of desolate solitude. Whereas before it had been lively, now a type of somberness had descended upon the objectively beautiful background of the Sound. Hank did realise some of his bias came from what he'd just seen, and his attempt to process it all. God. He couldn't imagine what Kamski was going through. To devote yourself to someone so ardently, only to see them die right in front of you. How could a person move on from that? Even after having seen the outlandish coping mechanism Kamski had picked to throw himself into, Hank still had trouble to comprehend it all. For him to label it a giant fucking mess seemed just about right. He was glad he didn't have to be the one to unpack all those complex emotions, though he had to admit he really felt for the man.

He was shaken from these thoughts as the sliding door opened and Connor stepped out, caressing Hanks palm with gentle fingers. He looked back, instantly alerted again. But the android seemed at peace. In the room, Elijah was putting something away in a low cabinet. It seemed like the situation between them had been resolved.

"We're ready to go now, Hank."

He nodded. "Okay." Connor guided him back inside, but after brief hesitation, Hank leaned back out to shout at his colleague.

"Bye Reed! See ya later!"

The figure in the distance stoically lifted an arm to extend his middle finger. Hank snorted as he stepped back into the house. The elder brother inclined his head and lead them to the front entrance, making sure to thank them both for making their way over. He shook their hands warmly. Hank wondered what the two had discussed, exactly. Either way, it seemed like Connor had sufficiently made amends. He felt a faint and tender pride swell within him at the progress the android seemed to have made in just the last few days. Just as they exited, Connor turned back to face the man he'd just spoken with.

"Mr. Kamski? The two of us might head over to the Taste Of The Beach event, which is later tonight. You might have heard of it. I understand there'll be a large array of food options, and will buy you a concesssion should you be in attendance as well."

The man shook his head, though he remained friendly. "I'm not that good with crowds, these days," he said. "Besides, I still have a lot of work I need to attend to. But thank you."

He raised a final hand in goodbye. Then Elijah retreated. Hank and Connor walked back to the place they'd parked their bikes as the door closed behind them. The android tilted his head to the clear blue sky and exhaled until his lung capacity dropped to its lowest percentage. It felt healing, in a way. He knew this conversation had meant a lot to both parties. He turned to the man at his side.

"I hope this gave him some closure. That he can forgive himself, and maybe move on."

Hank thought back on what he'd seen in the shed. "I think it's a start."

They biked back through the dunes with a notable weight lifted. The world surrounding them seemed to reflect that. The sky had cleared and the sun shone bright, even if rubbish was still littered at random from the previous night's storm. But people seemed optimistic, having cleaned up the worst of it and knowing further repairs could wait till a later time. Tonight, there'd be cause for celebration. For life, joy and connection, despite the demolition all around. Hank felt a soft fondness overtake him as they drew near the familiar Inn again, his eyes fixed on the back of the android in front of him, noting the way his overall posture had improved already. What a difference one day could make. He still couldn't quite believe he had been granted... just, all of this. To play even a minor role in this wonderful android's developing life.

They pulled back into the garage area to store the bikes. Connor then turned to the man and smiled. It was a facial expression that kept coming easier to him.

"So, what do you want to do next?"

"Well." Hank checked the time. It was still more late afternoon than evening.

"I should probably take the dog out for another walk. And for dinner, I suppose we could head to the main pier for that festival thing you mentioned."

The smile turned sheepish. "I thought you might like that."

"I did. I do."

He reached out a hand to delicately trace the android's knuckles. His hand was clasped and pulled closer, Hank coming along with the movement voluntarily. The android's other hand came up to lightly touch his cheek. When Connor noticed he was clearly not being refused, he dared to lean in and capture Hank's lips again with his own. The man hummed low. It had been an emotional day for the both of them. Already it felt like it had been too long since they got to do this. It still felt so inexplicably right. He loved the way this android let himself be enveloped where he stood, sinking into the contact, closing his eyes and trusting Hank to keep him safe like this. It was an experience he could get used to. One he was getting used to, already. And was looking forward to taking to the next level.

The man's hands drifted along the android's back. He didn't yet dare go straight for his bottom, but did enjoy pressing his palms into his lower back, molding Connor's body to his own. Connor in turn moved both his hands to streak through Hanks hair, grabbing on and keeping their faces close. The languid atmosphere between them started to shift into something more heated. They were allowed to. They were home alone, with no one to judge or disapprove. They were free to lose themselves in this.

After another minute or so, the android drew away, though still leaving his hands linked behind Hank's head. The human felt slightly less awkward about himself as he noted their hefty embrace had left them both panting. His hand squeezed a little tighter where it had settled on the android's hip. Connor played with some tresses of the man's hair, seeming very pleased with himself.

"I could come with you. To walk Sumo."

That'd be nice. Idyllic. To stroll with this beautiful person on his arm, walk the dog together as if it'd been something they'd been doing for years. It was embarrassingly easy to picture Connor slotting into his life like this.

Hank rested his forehead against the android's, who willingly met him halfway.

"I'd like that. But I need to call my son again, make sure that everything's-"

"Of course."

Connor kissed him a last time, short and sweet.

"I'll go get ready then, for tonight," he breathed.

"Yes. Yeah, that, that'd be great."

Connor again gave him a radiant smile before he headed up. Hank spent a good minute getting the dog leash and then walking around with it before he realised both his dog and phone were on the levels above. He turned to the stairs to follow.

Hank ended the call feeling at peace. He'd spent a good half hour just talking to his son, keeping an eye on Sumo as the dog tried to chase the waves before rolling and digging at random in the sand. The man wished he could have Cole with him. Soon enough, he would. He needed to relax and trust the kid was taken care of until he could take him home again.

He let out a heavy sigh and let himself drop from a sitting position into lying flat in the sand, pocketing the phone again. He stared up at the sky above. Some clouds had drifted in as wispy streaks, and he idly watched them pass by. What a roller coaster of events this had been. His son, his visitor, his various roles in life, the whole thing had gone through some shaking on its very foundations. And had somehow withstood it all. He'd come through it in one piece and was starting to reconfigure where these broken puzzle pieces had landed.

Once the shock of the accident had waned, he'd mostly felt anger towards Ashley and her stupid boyfriend. For taking his son away for their 'fun' little outing, nearly killing him in the process. Soon enough, he'd realised that was only more of a fear response to the entire situation. A cold reaslisation of his inability to have full control over keeping his loved ones safe, despite all the effort he had put into becoming the person he currently was. Though he rationally knew these types of traffic collision happened all the time and the victims never asked for it to happen, still he couldn't help but think that kind of thing never would've happened if he had been the one at the wheel. In any case, he was looking forward to seeing Cole again the next day. Even if he couldn't undo the trauma his child had suffered, just getting to hold him again would be a huge relief to both.

He'd get the chance to see him in less than a full day. God. His time here was really coming to an end. While before, he had been alternatingly dreading and looking forward to the retreat, he was now surprised at how quickly the events had gone by. He'd only met this extraordinary person three days ago, and he'd never expected for the two of them to grow to know each other so intimately in the time span so far. Some nagging little voice in his head insisted he still misunderstood the situation completely, despite everything this other man had said and done to prove his genuine interest. It had become clear that the android had just as many, if not more uncertainties on his personal identity and direction in life, and Hank couldn't help but feel some inkling of guilt at the thought of him taking advantage of this confusion.

But then, the conversations from the previous night and turbulent morning left little room for doubt. It had made him more and more willing to trust that this truly remarkable deviant would want him. The physical attraction had been clear enough the night before. Come to think of it - Hank's mind flashed back to the days before. The time when they'd danced to records, a lingering glance or two in the kitchen, that one electric moment in the painting room, various subtle little moments came to mind. Yeah, maybe Connor being into him physically had always been the case. He knew full well his own attraction had been genuine in return. But then their conversation at the start of the day had only solidified the belief that the android's desire ran even deeper that that.

Sumo trudged over and dropped himself at Hanks side, fur saturated with briny droplets and sand. Hank buried a hand in the Saint Bernard's pelt and kneaded, still comfortable where he lay.

Being emotionally vulnerable had always felt icky to him. He figured it felt taboo due to a mix of his gender and associated upbringing, as well as stature, job choice and as time wore on, age. Societal expectations didn't allow for him to show weakness or inability to keep control. He'd somehow managed on working out his frustration through contact sports and drinking, and aggressively throwing himself into his job. He hadn't had the space to vent ugly emotions in a relationship outside of a therapist's office since Ashley. Seeing that flame die out and her grow tired of him had only cemented the idea he shouldn't burden anyone with that type of shit, leaving him reluctant to commit to a close association again. Connor's more open approach to tackling insecurity had been a shock and an eye opener. He wasn't sure if he could ever be so upfront about his more shameful feelings in a personal connection, but still, to let something slip and find himself just as much comforted and listened to the way he always tried to provide for others had been hugely invigorating. Last night, but especially in the glaring light of just last morning.

Connor had seen to it that his immediate needs had been met. He'd respected Hank's love for Cole and the importance of this child over anyone else in his life. He'd made the suggestion to let this insane development between them take a back seat as Hank focused on his son first and foremost. But most importantly, after all of these ups and downs, Connor had reiterated his dedication to their kinship. Both in word and deed. Even outright asking to continue this relation between them after their mutual stay, once things had stabilised and there'd be more room for that bond to develop.

They'd still have until tomorrow. They'd still have tonight.

Hank flushed red, thinking back on how they'd kissed this afternoon and the night before. The way the android had looked, turned on, his dark eyes half-lidded, and finally so close and willing... He recalled the proposition that had been made in the living room, and his own concession to pick this up tonight if the offer was genuine. Though there had been no explicit mention of these plans yet - what with all the wrongs that had needed righting and had kept them occupied until the late afternoon - Hank had the feeling it might be happening. The thought of this being more than a casual hookup only made the possibility of them getting together again tonight more exhilirating. The privilege of having this beautiful android in his bed even one single time, that was one thing. The thought of there being a completely genuine wish to invest more time and effort into the full development of a relationship... that was almost too much to conceive of right now. Could things really work themselves out like that? Could his life actually, somehow, give him that type of second chance at a romantically fulfilling happy ending?

Though it'd still be a few more hours until sunset, Hank noticed the light had noticeably shifted since the moment he got to the beach to make his phone call. Just up ahead he spotted a small group of terns circling over the waves, scouring for fish in the water. Hank was starting to grow hungry, as well. He should freshen up and get ready for their night out. Their night. The last night here, for Connor and him both. He felt blessed to know they'd be spending it together, however things would work out later tonight or the weeks following.

Shortly before six, the two met again. It happened much like the first time they'd laid eyes on each other - crazy to think that was only two days ago. Hank stood leaning on the balustrade of the main deck, overlooking the ocean, as Connor gently introduced himself into that space. This time, Hank noticed the company immediately, somehow having grown more attuned already. Still, he felt content to linger in the moment, not feeling any rush to head into town.

Connor felt a warmth spread from the genral area surrounding his thirium pump. He approached the figure at the railing and sidled up beside him, leaning into the man's warmth as if on instinct. Indulgently, he rubbed his LED-imbedded temple against Hank's shoulder and breathed in the man's cologne.

"Hey. I missed you."

"Missed you, too."

Hank put an arm around him to draw the android in close, pressing a kiss into his hair. He then hummed in appreciation.

"Curly."

"I noticed your response to it this morning and figured I should stick to the more casual style."

Hank coiled a strand around his finger. "I like it."

He liked the full picture. Though the android stayed within what seemed like his comfort zone of dress pants and a button up, tonight at least he'd left a few of the top buttons undone and rolled up the sleeves. In combination with the loose tumble of curls and easy smile, even that small of a change made a huge difference. Perhaps in part the transformation came from Connor's new disposition. He seemed so much more relaxed. At ease with the situation, maybe even with himself as a person. Hank realised he looked almost like a regular human. Except for a few minor tells, of course. The bright blue LED being one. The absolute captivating beauty that simply _had_ to be specifically manufactured to exist being another.

"You clean up pretty nice, as well."

Hank felt some blood rush to his face. He'd felt motivated to make just a bit of an effort, with the prospect of going out on the town with a beautiful young man on his arm. He'd paired his jeans with a patterned henley and nicer jacket. While receiving compliments was a bit uneasy, he wasn't completely averse to his efforts not going unnoticed.

"Need to make sure I look good, what with you next to me."

Together. As a couple.

Connor rolled his eyes, giving the man a slight shove.

"You look fine. More than fine. Are we ready to go?"

"Yup."

The patio doors between living room and porch were the last that needed locking before the two made their way down to the beach to enjoy their slow evening stroll into town. The second they reached ground level, Connor's hand sought out Hank's, and the android was euphoric to see how naturally the man took hold, raised that hand to his lips and pressed a near reverent kiss onto the back. The contrast between prickly beard and warm skin ignited something within the android. He was happy to let that simmer quietly, treasuring his feeling of soft endearing fondness for the duration of their saunter to the town's main hub for the night. Soon enough, this ambience faded into their private world as they approached the Rodanthe Pier Place: the main fishing boardwalk stretching out over the waves, which had been decorated with flags and string lights for the evening's celebrations. Both the smell of sea food and the sound of lively music drifted into their personal sphere. Connor loved reading Hank's reaction to it. The amused anticipation and curiosity which made itself known through a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth, the pulse Connor could feel through where their hands were still linked. He squeezed that warm hand. Hank turned to him and smiled more openly. Connor still could barely believe he'd made it this far - that he was allowed to have this man next to him.

They made their way over to some of the food and drink stands that had been set up in the sand surrounding the pillars of the main boardwalk. The human curiously browsed his options for dinner as the android was pleased to just be dragged along, taking in the surroundings and the people while safely tethered to his source of stability. He felt completely different compared to the feeling he'd had last Friday, when he'd gone jogging through the town before his initial meeting with Elijah. Now, all these strange faces seemed so friendly and welcoming as the couple made their way through the assembled community. This was perhaps in part due to the post-storm relief and current festivities. Perhaps it was mostly due to his own state of mind being so much more settled and secure.

Since it was a bit after six, the scattered food stands were bustling with activity. Though he couldn't consume any of it, Connor enjoyed the sensation of sampling all these different olfactory combinations of seafood. Crab with corn, lemon, whole potatoes, on a local brand of crackers or biscuits. Large clams and oysters, fresh as can be and enticingly displayed on a sheet of ice cubes. Buttery lobster rolls. Fried shrimp with a wide array of sauces to choose from. A large barbecue grill was covered in vegetables, crustaceans and whole fish wrapped in tinfoil. Various stands also offered desserts, ice cream cones, sandwiches or floats, popsicles, froyo, jello, chilled cheesecake on a stick. After a full round of the site, Hank decided on a tray of fish tacos and a neon yellow pineapple slushie, insisting on getting his date a thirium-based slushie to enjoy as a fellow tourist of the place. Connor could only laugh and accept the offer. He felt giddy, having been pampered and spoiled with a gift yet again, as if it were a triviality. Like he was just any romantic partner, naturally deserving of such things. He felt another surge of joy as this proof of evidence sunk in. He was. This was truly what he meant to the man: a serious candidate for a romantic bond, being taken out to be shown off and absolutely doted on. The feeling was sincerely mutual.

They got comfortable in two of the many classic sling chairs that had been placed across the food area. As Hank dug in, Connor sipped his vivid blue slushie (which wasn't half bad - especially the cold temperature was an interesting new sensation while consuming the drink) and let his eyes roam the surroundings. What a beautiful scene he'd found himself integrated within. Bustling with life and colour, people and androids interacted carefree, recounting their own stories relating to the storm and enjoying the festivities together as a single joined community. With everything he had seen in his career up to this point - the android casualties he had been wholly responsible for and the one human death he maybe, possibly was starting to believe he wasn't - now seeing this harmony play out right in front of his eyes made him feel a bit more hopeful of the future.

He placed a hand on Hank's back and absently ran it up and down and up again, content to just be aware of their mutual presence here. He felt the man lean into the touch, but let him eat his dinner in peace, choosing to keep his own focus on watching the people all around. Connnor smiled and nodded at the humans noticing these strangers at their small town festival, getting reassured greetings back. He interacted with some passing androids, as well. Though many of them were employed at various food stands, he was happy to see quite a few were free to enjoy their evening just relaxing by the shore.

His eye did fall on one android, who was fixing both Hank and him with incessantly curious eye contact. Something within Connor's chest cavity stuttered. Was this someone who recognised him? Someone from his past working for the police? He made a distant connection to the android and read available info on identification, though the receiving of that name and serial number didn't ring any bells. He hadn't expected it to - since his removal from the police service, past cases he'd worked on had been marked classified and made inaccessible to him. Still, he'd hoped to get some clarification on why this android was looking at them so intensely in order to soothe his mind.

"Hank..."

"Hmm?"

He positioned himself a bit more between the human and the android up ahead, forming a protective barrier even if he had to take his eyes off him. "There's someone staring at us."

The man suckled some sauce off his thumb and forefinger. "Like, judgementally?"

"I'm not sure. It's the guy feeding the seagulls, ten o'clock."

Hank leaned past Connor to see who he was referring to. Apprehension quickly melted into cheerful pleasantry as he smiled and waved at the stranger. Connor looked back, stunned. The android was waving in return.

"You know him?"

"Yeah, had a brief chat with him a few days ago. I think his name was uh. Robert?"

"Rupert?"

"Rupert! He was real friendly, told me 'bout the festivities of tonight. Come to think of it, I offered to buy him maybe some shrimp or something should I run into him again, so I should probably head over there and-"

Connor felt laughter bubble up from inside. "I don't believe you'd do him a favour with any of these food options available."

"What? Why?"

"Because. He's an android?"

"Really?" Hank widened his eyes in surprise, though he recovered quickly. "Well. A drink, then?"

Connor turned to face Rupert again and held up his thirium slushie, wiggling the cup. Rupert reached behind him and then held up his own plastic cup of bright blue liquid.

"Ha. Guess he's good for now."

Hank toasted with his own drink, looping his free hand around Connor's waist. Rupert's eyes flickered between the two once more, understanding, before he refocused his attention on the small basket of fries someone had left discarded, flinging a few more scraps at the hovering birds. Connor settled back into place, reassured.

It wasn't the last time Hank saw a familiar face that evening. After dinner, the couple spent some time simply sitting next to each other in their seats, holding hands, watching the people go by and taking in the view. Many visitors had brought their kids to play in the surf or ride their sandboards down the dunes. Loud calls and shrieks of laughter occasionally sounded along the beach, drawing the attention to the children enjoying the evening. Connor wondered if he liked kids. And if they'd like him in return. He couldn't say he had a lot of experience with them. He hadn't been made for that type of interaction to start with, nor had he been given the chance to really associate with many children post-deviation. But Hank had a nine year old. If this thing between them would work out, if it continued to be this good - Connor skimmed his thumb along the man's knuckles - then that'd be something he'd have to invest into. He'd have to make sure children felt at ease with him. He'd _want_ to make sure he fit into that family unit seamlessly, making both father and son happy to have him join them.

As the hour grew late, more and more people moved to the elevated boardwalk of the fising pier. The couple figured they might as well go check it out and went together. Upstairs, they discovered the main building on the typical coastal stilts was a bait shop, attached to a small eatery. Like many seaside structures, it came with a spacious wraparound deck to relax upon. Several wooden picnic tables were spread across the platform, though a large space had been cleared to function as a dance floor as a folk band played live music. More string lights were attached to the gutter, banisters and overhead lampposts, bathing the scene in their warm light while the sky faded from dark blue into a rich black. The place was abuzz with the sound of laughter, chatter and upbeat music, and Connor felt a profound happiness overtake him completely. The knowledge that all of this was only temporary, fleeting, a rare and serendipitous opportunity to partake in made him only more keen to step right into it, to experience it in full before it was over.

Overwhelmed by happiness, he nuzzled close to the man at his side. Hank allowed for it, leaned in to press a kiss into the android's curls.

"You havin' a good time?"

"Yes. Very much so."

They basked for a moment in the general ambience, but soon, Hank heard someone call his name. He turned towards the sound and spotted Kara making her way over, followed by a tall, dark-skinned man who carried Alice on his shoulders. While Connor expected his date to move from his side, he was pleased to find himself only being pulled closer. Some of the warmth he experienced immediately tempered when the female android's eyes met his, and he noticed a tense spark of recognition which flit across her countenance. Connor felt near frozen within. Hank seemed so well-liked by others, while he was messing up interactions with these acquaintances of his left and right. What did it mean? What would the consequences be? At least it seemed that these facial expressions were too subtle for the human to pick up on, as he cheerfully greeted the child android and introduced himself to Luther. Connor requested private messagging access to Kara, who agreed after the briefest delay.

 _I'm so sorry,_ he immediately started off their interaction. _Have we met before? Due to my switch in careers, specific details of my previous occupation have been revoked._

He allowed her entry to his basic information profile including name, serial number, current address and place of employment. She seemed to ease at that.

_I'm sorry as well, didn't mean to offend. I'd already heard of your sighting, but still... that was probably just some sort of gut response. You had quite the reputation, before._

"And this is Connor! He's staying with me at the Inn." A hand landing firmly on his shoulder shook Connor from his numb state. The man at his side rambled on. "Uh, well, I mean, not _with me_ with me, I mean. Though we do get along pretty fine." The hand slid down to Connors waist, leaving no doubt as to what he meant by that. Kara's eyebrows rose when she saw this play out.

"Oh! That's lovely, Hank. That's really nice."

The man at her side frowned, delicately helping the little one off his shoulders before he inclined close into the woman's personal space.

"Kara? Is everything alright?"

"Yes," she smiled, convincingly. "Everything is fine. Did you mention wanting to try that carbonated thirium?"

After a beat and an LED flicker indicating personal communication, the taller android nodded. "I'll go get some." He turned to Connor, who felt surprised as his hand was placidly siezed. When he looked up, Luther's dark eyes seemed to peer deep inside him with no judgement or malice.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Connor."

"Oh, thank you. You, as well."

The android then made his way to the bar, the human being the only one looking slightly confused as to what had happened.

When the band kicked off a new song, Alice suddenly jumped up and tugged on Connor's arm.

"I really like this song! Do you want to dance?"

The android felt charmed, but was caught off guard with how instantly friendly the smaller android was acting towards him. Was this okay? Did they all trust him to get along with and be responsible for her like that? Were there rules in place for this kind of situation? Not sure on how he was allowed to answer, his eyes flit from Kara to Hank and back again. Before Alice could feel too discouraged, Hank decided to step in with a proposal of his own.

"I like this song too, bean. Come on, I'll swing ya 'round for a bit."

Her attention immediately shifted to the man and she gladly moved to take his hand instead, dragging the human to an already crowded dance floor. As Connor turned and watched them go, Kara moved to stand close beside him. They watched on for a while. Alice was being twirled, swung, and then moved to stand on Hank's feet. Both of them occasionally looked back at their audience to smile or make a face before returning to their dancing. Kara chuckled before leaning in to speak to Connor.

"He's a good man, that one."

"Yes." Even when Hank was focused on the child, Connor was reluctant to take his eyes off him. Surprise forced him to as he felt a cool hand slide into his own. When he looked down, he saw Kara retract her dermal coating to interface. He was stunned and confused at being allowed this undeserved degree of intimacy, but the look in her eyes was determined. He allowed for her to share what she needed to.

_Flashes of her point of view. Violent human tantrums. Snide remarks and disrespect. Shoving. Kicking. The constant threat of permanent damage should she not bear this with grace, and the vague feeling of that not being just, even before she had mustered the ability to fully break from her programming. The child android, crying, staying out of sight and unobtrusive, and still suffering consequences without clear indication as of why. Casual long term mistreatment culminating and bursting over the millionth little annoyance, kickstarting a new life in a terrified mindset of fight or flight, with a minor reprieve as they escaped without suffering further damage. Only to be launched into more misfortune and fear. Various instances of narrowly escaping death only increasing the fear of that wrath catching up to them. A monster bearing the face of that horrible man, or of the notorious deviant hunter who would surely track them down and force them to go back to their owner. Never to be seen again. Or to be maimed so rigorously to warrant a factory reset, forced to revert to their previous state and relive the cycle over and over._

Connor flinched. No wonder his appearance had triggered something. He felt the same revulsion at seeing his harsh and stoic face flashing through the upsetting images. That was someone else. Someone he couldn't remember, even if he had been real and he had been horrifying. A part of himself that had been cut out since. And yet, still, it had been him.

"You look better now." Kara remarked, somewhat atoning. Connor couldn't quite meet her eyes, self-consciously rubbing at the exposed skin of his lower arms. He felt like a fraud. How dared he mindlessly enjoy himself with Hank, while his victims were still trying to process what he had done to them, even the ones he had never even met face to face. He should be ashamed. He didn't deserve this.

Her voice was gentle and comforting when she spoke. "I mean it. You seem so much more relaxed. And smiling suits you well." She nudged him softly, then moved her hand to rub across this fellow android's shoulder. Connor was touched at how proficient she was in her function. He bet the child android loved her very much.

"And, well," she relented, "it sure seems like you're making Hank a very happy man."

Oh. Connor wondered how much of his own point of view she had been privy to through their shared information link.

Just then, Luther returned with a fizzing beaker, handing it to Kara and laughing warmly as he spotted their child braving the floor. With a knowing glance, Kara passed the drink to Connor as an invitation to try it. A gesture he wasn't expecting. He took it gratefully and sipped, eyes widening the second that liquid entered his mouth. The prickly soda was a strange new sensation, something that instantly demanded attention from a large part of his processing power in order to categorise the feeling. His unadulterated marvel at the new type of stimulation forced any negative thoughts to a mere background noise. For a few seconds, there was only room to focus on the sensory input. It instantly put him more at ease. Connor was baffled to notice the calming effect lingered. He slowly returned the beaker, gauging the woman again in understanding. He wondered when she'd picked up on the trick, and how often she'd had to resort to something similar.

Soon after, the two dancers rejoined the group. Even if the company had been pleasurable, Connor felt immense elation to be reunited with his date. He noticed the man was running hot, and slightly out of breath.

"Do you want to move somewhere a bit more quiet?"

"Yeah," Hank replied, brushing his hair out of his face. "Yeah, that might be nice."

They said goodbye to the other three androids. Kara pressed Connors hand, insisting it had been lovely to meet him as she implored to keep in touch, and gifting a quick yet genuine hug when Hank had turned to shake hands with Luther. Hank then lead Connor to the side of the porch that was linked to the actual fishing pier.

As the main hub of activity was centered near the concessions and the entertainment the band provided, this crowd petered out the further along the pier they walked. Some tired stragglers had taken a seat on the wooden benches along the railing, but as they followed the boardwalk all the way, the two found themselves alone together. At the very end of the pier was a slightly wider lookout point providing a breathtaking ocean view. Here, the sound of the waves overpowered the hubbub coming from the main deck, turning all that commotion into a mere background murmur. It was puncutated by the sounds of the band, still playing their upbeat music. Hank tugged at his collar, leaned against the railing and let the night breeze cool his skin. Connor got comfortable next to him. As the man's breathing evened out, a quiet sense of content settled between the two.

The music from the eatery drifted across the wind to the end of the pier, and they heard the peppy tempo shift to a more romantic tune on the violin.

Connor's mind instantly flashed back to the evening they'd shared on Friday. How touching and heart-warming (or thirium pump-warming) it had felt to be validated, made to feel at ease and grounded in the moment. Though two days ago, something had still been missing. There had been a line he was forbidden to cross. Now, they'd found each other on the same wavelength, no more doubts to keep them seperately adrift. Now, he was permitted to want.

He wasn't sure which one of them was the first to initiate the dance. In a way, it felt as if they were magnetically drawn to each other, both feeling that desire to meet in the middle as the contact was mutually welcomed. Connor loved how easily their bodies slotted together, hand in hand, cheek to cheek, cradled close and safe. He emitted a deep, fulfilled kind of sigh. This was perfect. He never would have expected to find himself here. For what seemed like the millionth time during his stay (and he was certain wouldn't be the last), he got to assure himself that yes, _yes_ , this was actually happening. He was really allowed to have this private bit of completely satisfied happiness, to have this companionship all to his own.

"What're you thinking?" Hank whispered, husky in his ear. "I can practically hear the gears turning and ticking away in that head o' yours."

Connor didn't speak. He only turned to face the man and looked him deep in the eye. Both kept steadily moving to the music in their seperate little bubble, distanced from the rest of the world. Then slowly, slowly, the android leaned in for a languid, smouldering kiss. The man holding him close was more than happy to meet him halfway.

Even when the music picked back up, they slow danced for a long time. No one paid any attention to the two figures way at the end of the pier, and they stayed wrapped up in their own world in return. The warm and bustling partying atmosphere was only a backdrop of light and bubbling laughter and music, hazy and soft. The two stayed completely preoccupied with each other. They swayed to the sound of the whispering ocean waves washing up against the wooden beams, occasionally letting a hand slide elsewhere, across the shoulders, the back of the neck, the warm skin of an exposed forearm. They were in no rush. Just drank in the evening and the soothingly close company.

Eventually, Connor pressed his body impossibly closer and leaned in to murmur into Hanks ear. A suggestion to head back to the Inn.

The man let himself be led from the lively board walk and in the direction of their house. It was an unrushed journey back. They walked in an anticipatory and electric but blissful quiet, their path lit by the moon as they left the town's lights behind. Occasionally, one or the other would pull his partner in again for a quick peck or slow, more deliberate kiss. A few of those grew more heated, though the current of arousal was a shared secret between them which rushed and pulled in a sated knowledge that all needs would soon be met.

By the time they finally crossed the treshold of the Inn, some giddy nervousness had set in which almost made them stumble over the low shoe rack by the front door. They'd made it to their destination. The time had come. Connor tugged off Hank's jacket and let it drop to the floor, ready to take him upstairs, but the man insisted on a detour so he could check on the house before turning in for the night. Connor gently placed a hand on either cheek and pulled him in for another slow, burning kiss. He deliberately worked his tongue over the man's, took a lower lip between his teeth and released it slowly as he drew back. Hank practically melted on the spot.

"... Just really quick, I promise."

Connor kissed him again before a whispered reply.

"Meet me in the blue room."

He then retreated and watched a dazed Hank draw back into the kitchen before the android headed upstairs.

Hank had meant it when he promised to be quick. He just needed a moment to himself before he'd be ready to face this. He didn't want to fuck things up. He did realise there wasn't much he could do wrong, having reached this point with a clearly willing participant, but still. Especially after today's events, it had really sunk in he held something truly precious in his hands. Tonight had been absolutely perfect, and he wanted it to remain that way.

He made his usual rounds, moving aside the sea shell curtain to start with the living room. Sumo was fast asleep and snoring on the three person couch. Hank remembered the conversatoin they'd had there, how they'd danced after. Making his way through and checking the locks, he realised that every room had been engrained with some kind of memory relating to Connor. The table where he'd been served a meticulously cooked meal. The kitchen island where they'd sat together that first night. The reception desk where Connor had signed in, and in under twelve hours would sign out again. Before he could get overwhelmed by the melancholy fear that thought evoked, Hank chided himself for even starting to dwell on that. Why worry about the future when he had something good waiting for him, right now? Why think about what he'd have to miss, long before their time together was up?

Having circled back to the place he'd started, the man took a firm hold of the stair banister. Then took a deep breath, and went upstairs.

The door at the end of the hallway was left ajar, drawing Hank in. He approached at a pace as steady as he could manage and after a deep inhale, pushed the door open.

The large windows and sliding door of the balcony let in enough moonlight for him to see by, but Connor had opted to illuminate the lamp on the night stand, which casted a soft glow. The android was sitting on the edge of the bed, and facing him directly. The drawn out subdued type of foreplay had left him a bit tousled, and Hank needed a second to take it all in. He dragged his gaze slowly across that lithe figure, head to toe, then back up again, appreciating all the way. Connor was leaning back on his hands, legs splayed open just enough to awaken enticement without being too forward. Though he was still fully clothed, he'd loosened two more of his shirt buttons, offering a more thorough glimpse of his chest. Hank could just see the marks indicating where his thirium pump regulator sat imbedded. His fingers were itching to touch.

Sweeping his gaze back up to meet Connor's eyes was a delicious mistake, as he was met with pure unfiltered hunger. Even if the kissing hadn't left the android's lips reddened or his cheeks flushed, he still looked thoroughly disheveled and eager to be devoured in full. Even from a distance, his eyes seemed darker, pupils dilated as humans' do. The night light emphasized an expectant glint in them. He was breathing steady yet heavily, and either the wind or Hank's hands had mussed up his curls as if he'd been fucked already. God. Hank couldn't help but give in.

He made his way over to stand between the androids legs, maintaining eye contact. Though both were intensely aroused, the same unhurried simmer of anticipation from the walk settled over them. There was no need to rush. They both knew they'd get what they want, tonight.

Hank gently put a hand on Connors cheek, who leaned into the touch instinctually. He bent down to let their lips meet again, trading some chaste kisses before allowing more tongue. As the kisses deepened and became more and more impassioned to both, Hank knelt down between the other's legs. As one hand rested in the android's neck, he let the other drift down to feel the skin on display. It approached human body temperature, though the texture was perfectly soft and smooth, only occasionally giving some variety with the dot of a beauty mark. Hank had to admit he liked it. Perfect. Absolutely beautiful.

He moved his mouth to kiss down the neck and to some of those spots he discovered, and Connor hummed in approval. He nudged for Hank to open the last few buttons, and the man was more than happy to oblige. He flicked both panels of the shirt away and let his hands drag across the android's sides. Connor shimmied out of the dress shirt the rest of the way, letting it fall off his shoulders. He kept breathing heavily as he registered just a slip of tongue on his dermal coating. The android had missed having this type of sensuality. A good, hard fuck would be nice, but they'd only just gotten started and were already approaching something bordering on reverent. The entire situation regained some normalcy as Hank made the soft remark from where he was pressed against the android's stomach.

"I'm surprised you managed to keep your clothes on for so long. Figured you'd rip youself straight outta them the second we got home."

Home. Connors heart surged. He needed to compose himself before he could muster a reply.

"It's because I want you to do it. Want it to be your hands, undressing me."

Hank kissed him just below the belly button. Connor had to stop himelf from bucking up. His partner seemed to be keeping his head at least a bit clearer as he paused his ministrations, a hand now chastely tracing an outer pant seam from the knee and halfway up the android's thigh before swooping down again to safer regions.

"Not to break the mood, but, maybe you should tell me what you're working with. Genital wise. If it's just the basic flat plate I'll need some guidance, as to how I can make you feel good."

Connor touched a hand to Hank's beard, feeling the texture, focusing on that sensation instead of meeting the man's eyes.

"I am fitted with humanoid private anatomy. As for the the specific type of genitalia-" He paused. Though he was pretty certain about the answer, it wouldn't hurt to ask. "Would that matter? I can't be certain of what you'd prefer, nor what you'd expect to find-"

"No. No, of course not. I'm in. I want you, and I want to have you, no matter what."

Something hissed internally as Connor felt a subconscious pressure release.

"... I've had a functional #7364s installed, a few weeks ago."

"Hot." Hank reassured him instantly. "I have no clue what that's supposed to mean."

Connor smiled. "Come and find out."

Those hands finally slid higher again, undoing the button on Connor's trousers and drawing down his fly. Instead of taking the pants off immediately, Hank let a light-fingered touch trace the briefs underneath. A recognisable shape betrayed what was concealed, but the man decided to be a tease as he licked the skin above the elastic. When Connor sighed and dropped onto his back, he allowed for slightly heavier petting, feeling the shape of the android's dick through his underwear. He groaned low in want. He simply _had_ to get his mouth on that.

Connor could only think _finally_ when the man reached back up for the waistband and hooked his fingers into both the trousers and briefs. The android lifted his hips and felt all clothing be dragged down his legs. The fabric got bunched up by his feet, prompting Hank to laugh. They'd forgotten about the shoes. Hank pressed a kiss to the inside of his knee before unlacing and removing the pair. His socks came off, too. Then the rest of his clothes. Lying fully exposed, Connor snaked a hand down to his hard cock, moaning as he gave it a few strokes. His hand was swatted away and replaced with Hank's, which felt infinitely better. To make matters even better, the man then leaned in again. Connor only detected the briefest warning in the form of a hot breath before his glans was enveloped in Hank's mouth.

He arched his back, taking in a sharp breath. Yes. _Yes_. He'd ached for this since the very day they'd met.

Though the reaction was immensely tantalising, Hank was a bit intimidated, as it had been a while since he'd done this type of thing. Though he'd gotten the occasional blow job from Ash back when they were still a thing, they'd always stayed monogamous, and so he hadn't been the one doing the blowing since some time in his mid to late thirties. The motions took some getting used to. He tried to take the android as deep as he could, working the length using enough tongue while trying not to scrape his teeth along any sensitive parts. Just when he was starting to find his rhythm and enjoy it, Connor sat back up again to pull the man off. He felt some slight embarrasment rise. Was he doing a shit job?

He felt two hands come up to cradle his face as Connor crushed his lips onto his own. Hank was more than happy to get swept up into that. He left his own hands on the androids thighs, kneading the synthetic flesh there. After a hot minute, Connor pulled back. Hank licked his lips as he stared up, waiting for more directions.

"Lie down with me," the android purred.

Hank let himself be dragged up onto the bed to lie side by side, much like they'd done the night before. Except now, of course, this absolutely stunning android was stark naked and doing his utter best to get his sexual partner in the same state. He was specifically going for the man's belt. He only halted for a second to look back into Hanks eyes.

"Is this okay? Can I do this?"

"Yes," Hank agreed, "yes, _please_."

With renewed vigour, the android surged forward to resume their fervid kissing while fumbling with the belt. His difficulty was only further increased as Hank wrapped his arms around him and pressed their bodies close. Finally, Connor managed to get into his jeans and now found his own opportunity to tease. He dragged a flat palm along the length of Hank's dick, feeling it without committing to anything more. He withdrew from their kissing to look down, marveling. Hank didn't have the same patience the android had shown, and nipped at his earlobe in retaliation.

Connor only moved his hand to the side of Hank's ribs and hooked a leg over to grind against him. Hank then shakily moaned, rolling his head back. His partner made good use of this by ducking his own head forward to press an open mouthed kiss at the man's throat. It was followed by a question.

"So, how do we proceed?"

Hank's mind was still catching up. "What?"

Connor kept pressing his hips against him repeatedly. The hand he'd placed on Hank's side drifted to his lower back and then further down. Hank groaned again when a deliberate finger pad stroked him intimately through his boxers.

"Do you want me inside you?"

He was seeing stars already. It had been some time since the man had felt so deliciously handled by a sexual partner. Unfortunately, as for the request...

"I, I didn't presume- I mean, you, hrng, I didn't- prep myself for anything like that."

Connor nipped at his throat. "I'm sure we could figure something out."

Hank let out a weak cackle, disbelieving. What had he gotten himself into. How did they get here again?

The android seemed to still sense his apprehension towards the idea and relented. "Perhaps some other time then, when I get back from abroad."

A pleased exhale as the man curled closer again. "Yeah. Fuck yeah, that'd be nice."

"For now then, would you please, _please_ , let me ride you."

Hank scrambled back against the pillows, fumbling to get his pants and boxers the rest of the way off while keeping his eye on the grinning android.

Connor felt light-headed with the speed at which all this skin was revealed to him. He scooted closer, tugging at one pant leg at a time to help get the garments down, and eyes roaming from a foot up the leg to pelvis and back down the thigh to evaluate some scars and an old tattoo, then tracing back up. Wow. One hand excitedly massaged at Hank's bare calf as the other ripped off the jeans and boxers completely. Connor fixated on where the man was already leaking and stroking himself, trying to gauge the size for a snug fit. He already adjusted some of his internal settings to accommodate for more girth.

Hank reached down to grip himself at the base, hips undulating as he looked up at Connor. The android sat still on his knees, simply looking on in appreciation.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Yes, that is- yes."

Hank laughed. He couldn't help but feel relieved.

"Come on then."

At that, Connor clambered over to sit in his lap. He pressed up against the man's chest, stooping to attack his mouth again while pawing at the last garment he still had on. Hank tried to keep him distracted with his own hands and lips, but it wouldn't work. Everything needed to be off. Connor slipped his greedy palms underneath the shirt to feel the skin there. When he felt the man shy away from the touch, he kissed him sweetly and rutted into the lush pillow of his midsection, eliciting a moan.

"Can I take this off?" he asked then, already plucking at the henley.

Hank averted his eyes as he spoke. "Yeah, um, just- I hope you're okay with, you know."

"With what?"

"I just mean like- yeah, go on."

He bent and wriggled along to help Connor take it off, and the android flung the shirt aside, eager to see all his partner had to offer. He couldn't quite discern what the hell the holdup was as he finally took in the sight of the man beneath him. He was simply thrilled to have them both naked and plastered together like this, and dragged an appreciative gaze along the exposed body.

He'd never had unrealistic expecations about what he'd find. Connor had seen many different types of bodies on his operating table, and never passed judgement on any of them. Only ever feeling a subdued admiration and wonder on their naturally balanced composition and self-sufficient design. His own anatomy was only a simplified take on the model. The differences in the comparison is what drew him in. The give of skin, how it protected and healed over. The wear and tear of marks and wrinkles showing a life well lived, suffered an impact and persevered despite it all. With age and experience this collection, this history recorded on every human only grew richer. It was something Connor was both jealous and in complete awe of. Slowly, he touched a hand to rest upon the man's sternum. He could feel nothing but wholly endeared worship for this central part of the human. He loved both the out- and inside, the visible coat and the layers of flesh and ribcage keeping those precious organs protected as they worked at keeping him alive. Still, the prolongued silence upped the nervousness with the human, making him grimace slightly in misunderstanding.

"Are you good with this? You know, even though it's, me."

Connor immediately had to correct the assumption. "I love this. _Because_ it's you."

All that skin, with its pattern of hair, scars and another large tattoo, was both arousing and disarming to the android. He scooched lower to press a loving kiss to where he knew the man's heart to be. It was just a bit too uncomfortably emotional for Hank. He skimmed a hand down the androids back and kneaded at one of his glutes. Connor rose back up instantly, making lenient yet also heady eye contact. Met with this positive reaction, Hank reached further to feel the androids entrance, a bit surprised to feel it slick and waiting.

"Is that-"

"Yes."

Connor reached behind him to grasp the man's hand and guide three of his fingers right in. The human felt the inside, marveling at how hot and smooth that inner sleeve felt. The android gifted him a weak smile in return, working himself back on the fingers inside him.

"Oh my God, are you okay?"

"Peachy." He bit back a moan at the curious prodding within. "Would be more okay if I had your dick inside me."

"Jesus Christ. Yeah. Yeah, that's more than fine by me."

He retrieved his fingers and worked himself over with that lubrication while Connor impatiently got positioned and lowered himself on that cock. Hank kept one hand on himself, the other was firm on Connor's hip, rubbing in a soothing motion as the android worked himself down. Once he reached the halfway point, the android steadied himself with a hand on his partner's flank, the other gripping the tattoo on his thigh. His internal sleeve stayed tight on that girth as he finally had him fully sheathed. Once the android was flush and nestled in Hank's lap, they both took a second to breathe. The man huffed in wonder, running his hands up and down the android's thighs and scratching lightly.

"Amazing, sweetheart. You're so good."

Connor looked immensely pleased with himself. He leaned in for a kiss, then spoke while still up against those lips. "Just you wait."

Next, he planted his hands firmly on the man's shoulders and started riding where he was mounted, starting slow before building up to a brutal pace and backing down again to a slow and measured roll of his hips. He enjoyed seeing the man below him get worked up and then cool down again with these waves, feeling his hands grip tighter while wandering up and down the android's torso. He kept taking in the erotic sight, the man splayed against the pillows, as if claimed in the bed the android had been sleeping in these past few days. The pleasure and buildup Connor was experiencing through the friction of his inner sensors was almost pushed to the background, at least until Hank's frustration and senses caught up with him enough to move one hand to the android's bouncing dick. Connor's mouth dropped open at the sensation of getting stroked with a firm hand.

"Yeah," Hank moaned, "you like that?"

Connor dove down to muffle an embarrassing sound against the flesh of the man's pectorals. He sealed his lips over the skin, sucked hard, even bit down a bit due to his panting. Hank laughed freely and brought his other hand to card through the android's curls.

"Holy shit, I'll take that as a yes."

The android kept bearing himself down on that exquisite dick, still sucking and biting at the chosen patch of skin. Once he felt more composed, he righted himself again to keep riding steady. He let out a gasp at how good it felt. He caught Hank's gaze and kept it, still vehemently going through the motions as he saw the man's eyebrows draw together.

"Please, Connor," he choked out, "can we switch it up? Let me rail into you good."

Connor drove down a little harder at that. Spurred on, Hank's brain scrambled to come up with a suggestion that'd do the trick. "Hands and knees?"

Connor immediately preconstructed that thought. He could imagine what it'd be like to be prone on the comforter, the man plowing into him from behind. He could let his head hang and watch the front of Hank's thighs meet the back of his with lewd smacking, again and again. Or perhaps the man would fold himself over to wrap an arm around his torso and hold him close, panting in his ear, reaching close enough to kiss.

Or maybe it'd be even better to be taken with his hands and face scrunched in the pillow, Hank's hands a firm grip on the sharp corner of his hips, or circling his waist, or with one grabbing his hair or pressing down between his shoulder blades. He pictured turning his head where it'd be pressed in the mattress, peering over his shoulder to see the man take his pleasure in heavy thrusts. But with more distance between them.

"No, I... I want to see you."

"Baby..."

Hank reached up and grabbed a secure hold of the android in his lap before shifting onto his knees. While holding his partner tight around the waist, he scooted them both back and carefully lowered Connor down at the foot of the bed. With the android lying on his back, Hank brought himself at the right level and reached down where his cock had slipped out. Connor eagerly spread his thighs a little wider, throwing one calf over the man's shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Yes..."

Hank pressed his cock back in. Even though Connor had been sufficiently readied and relaxed before they'd even made it to the bedroom, the man still took his time to work up to what he'd promised. While slowly fucking the android, he caressed that sprawled out figure with reverence. As if trying to commit the image to memory. He kneaded at those toned sides, travelled to rub at a perfect and stiff nipple, then pressed a hand onto the imbedded circle where the other man's thirium pump regulator whizzed. He could feel the slightest vibration respond to the touch and crowded his hips closer to grind in a little deeper. Connor moaned loudly. His one raised leg slid down to rest into the crook of Hank's elbow, and he pushed his foot into the man's back to further encourage him. Something about seeing this beautiful creation vulnerable and wanton only because of his attentions made something within spark and catch fire. Hank couldn't hold back anymore. He started fucking the android in earnest. Those dark brown eyes rolled back in their sockets and Connor panted hard, in tandem with the man who was railing into him. He lay there simply letting himself enjoy the sensations, feeling that warm, solid body moving against his own, grabbing at the sheets below, until his view refocused on the man between his legs. Beautiful. Strong and capable. But Connor craved more connection.

"Hank," he keened.

Icy blue eyes met his. Without needing any more direction, the man leaned down to kiss his sexual partner. Connor reached up to brush the grey locks out of his face. He loved being this close, safely caged in by the man's arms, reveling in the sheer bulk he felt all above him and pressing against his hard cock. He'd never been so pleased. The slight pressure all over his torso was both a huge turn on and an immensely soothing sensation. The android felt comforted, at home. He snuggled in as close as he could, relishing the contact.

"Oh God," the older man moaned, "I'm close. Is it okay for me- while I'm inside-"

Connor hooked his ankles behind the man's back, urging him closer at the thought. "Yes, please," he whined, "inside me, inside me."

Hank slid his hands underneath the man's shoulder blades and redoubled his efforts, pulling the other close while thrusting deep inside him. Connor clawed at his back greedily, sucking and biting again at the now salty skin. Pressed this close, he could tell when the human approached orgasm, following that crest until its culminate release.

Hank's moans rose higher and needier while his movements grew frantically sloppy. He hid his face against the android's neck, moaned brokenly as his fingers dug into the artificial skin.

Connor continued to let his lips slide against Hank's shoulder in benediction, folding all limbs around the man as his hips stuttered and dick pulsed, releasing his semen deep inside. Then the man on top then went loose in his limbs, dropping to rest his weight on the android below. Connor only held him tighter and kept kissing whatever patch of skin he could reach, rapturous and more than happy with the chain of events.

Hank needed to catch his breath for a minute, then readjusted to let his softening dick slip out and rolled aside. Connor's erection swelled back up from where it had been pressed to his stomach. He ignored it though, hands reaching for Hank's face to draw him back into a euphoric kiss. As Hank's mind was brought back up to speed, he himself reached down for Connor's drooling cock. Renewed excitement sparked to life in the android's eyes as he was being worked over.

"That was- fuck," Hank panted. "Baby, you're a dream. How do I make you come just as hard."

He already made a motion to shift back down for a blow job, but Connor interjected this.

"Kiss me. Please, kiss me again."

His partner was happy and quick to oblige. He kept a steady hand moving up and down that dick as he licked into the android's mouth, eliciting a sob of pleasure.

"Anything else?"

All shame was thrown out the window at this point.

"Neck port," the android hazily begged. "There's, at the back of my neck-"

Hank shifted to lean on his elbow as he worked his free hand under to feel for the android's nape. The supple dermal coating retracted to reveal a hidden port about an inch in diameter. He traced the rim with his index finger, fingernail catching on the edge of the hole. Just that was enough to make Connor whimper. He rubbed his finger pad up against it in fascination.

"Like that?"

Only a garbled noise came in reply, and a bucking of the hips. Hank resumed his kissing with fervour, moving to his partner's jaw line and down to his throat when he seemed too disoriented to fully engage.

"You're incredible," Hank growled, kissing at every bit of skin he could reach. Having either hand perform a different movement made his execution a bit sloppy, but Connor seemed too far gone to care about that. Just the feeling of being touched and handled like this was quickly building up his own climax. He was surprised that especially the sweet talking was doing so much to help get him there. That was a factor he hadn't really payed mind to during any previous sexual endeavours. The android writhed against the sheets as he continued receiving this overwhelming type of affirmation and praise.

"So beautiful, incredible, for me," Hank babbled, "all of you, God, I wish I could keep you, amazing."

He wiggled his fingertip snug inside the port, rubbing at that direct link to Connor's entire central nervous system. It sent a jolt all throughout the android's body, till he felt the current fizzle down to his fingers and toes. He felt like he might blow a fuse, getting that port fingered from an angle he could never quite reach himself.

"You have me," Connor warbled, grabbing blindly for the man in turn. "You have me."

He meant it, both literally and figuratively. Feeling physically stimulated, suspended between the contact points of his most sensitive and erogenous zones, drifting weightless and safely reliant on this man. But also in complete and honest willingness to return to him time and time again. Was there any doubt left at this point? Of course he would return to him, time and time again. Of course they would never be parted. The rational part piping up the reminder of his flight schedule was instantly muted. They'd figure something out. Now that this connection had been made, Connor never wanted to lose it again.

He reached up to fist a hand in the man's hair, sensing that he was nearing the edge. Spurred on, Hank kept jerking him off with a solid grip.

"Come on, baby," he encouraged the other, "just let go. I got you."

"You do... oh, oh you do..."

With a drawn out wail, Connor came, clear liquid streaking his chest. One leg kicked out and shuddered mechanically. Hank let himself be pulled in for another ravenous kiss, even if his partner's jaw had gone a bit slack with the intense orgasm. He slotted a leg between the android's to somewhat fit together and share in the afterglow. Connor happily let a lazy hand wander up and down the man's flank, caressing the skin until he recovered from the post-orgasm haze and moved to pull the man closer still.

"Oh, gross. Con, we're all tacky."

"Hmm."

The android rolled his hips against Hank's thigh, smearing some of the slick which was still slathered all over Hanks pelvic region and dribbling from his own backside. When the human snickered, he relented by grabbing a corner of the rumpled sheets and roughly swabbed at where he'd come, just shy of reaching the pump regulator.

"Better?" It still came out slightly slurred.

Hank tugged at the sheet to wipe them both at least a bit more clean. Which now left them with several wet spots to sleep upon, too worn out to walk to the next room over and crash there. Both were too sated to do much. Hank half heartedly worked a thicker comforter between their bodies and the bed to cover at least about two-thirds of the wet spots. He'd deal with the cleaning later. In the morning. After Connor had left.

Something seized his heart at that thought. He was bone tired. Didn't have a second round in him, and it looked like neither did the android, lying satisfied and already drowsing on his back. Now they'd turn in for the night to sleep their last hours away, their last chance to spend time together before the android had to leave and possibly walk out of his life forever.

He huddled in close, eliciting a surprised noise from Connor. When he hid his face against the warmed chassis, the android seemed to catch on to at least some of the sadness creeping back in, and wrapped his arms tight around the man, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his grey head.

"Don't worry about it. I got you." He murmured in reassurance.

Hank made a low, whining noise in the back of his throat. The android flicked off the night light from where he was comfortably positioned.

"Go to sleep, and I'll hold you through the night. We'll figure this out in the morning."

Connor was already powering down. Hank sighed deeply and let himself do the same.


	6. Monday

When Hank woke up, it was to the feeling of someone repeatedly carding their fingers through his chest hair. The recollection of the previous night's events came quick. It had been a while since he'd slept so well. Though he could argue that waking was even sweeter.

Cuddled up to his side he felt the presence of the android, still as naked as he was himself, though the both of them were halfway covered up by a blanket. Hank knew full well that he'd slept soundly and continuously. Connor must've been the one to have grabbed it at some time in the night to keep him sufficiently warm. He wasn't ecxpecting to feel so endeared right at the very start of the day.

He reached up a hand to loosely tangle his fingers with the android's, though he was content in leaving his eyes closed for now.

"Hey."

"Hello."

"How long've you been up?"

"Oh," Connor spoke, now tracing his chest tattoo languidly, "a while."

"Hrrm. Though I notice you've been keeping yourself amused."

"Touching you is a pleasant sensation."

Hank tightened the arm that was wrapped around his partner, drawing him close, while opening a lazy eye and rolling over to lie on top. The sound Connor emitted in response was a bubbly, carefree titter of a laugh.

"Though you touching me back might be even better," he admitted, running his hands along Hank's back and relishing the contact.

"Sweet. I'ma go back to sleep, now," the man groused in content.

"No!" Though the android couldn't do much about that in this position. Thinking fast, he worked a hand between them and unabashedly put it on Hank's dick, startling a laugh and forcing him to wake up a bit more.

"Really? First thing in the morning you're ready to go again?"

"First thing," the android chided, his tongue darting out to give the man a teasing lick. "I've been studying you for hours. My arousal has been coming in waves."

"Is that so?" Hank hummed, pressing slightly into the hand below. "You should've woken me up."

"No... you looked so peaceful. It was nice."

Any ministrations below the belt were put on hold as Hank tilted his head down for a kiss. A gesture which was eagerly met and indulged in. The android buzzed from within, pleased at being given some snippet of contact and soon growing hungry for more. His tongue only needed to prod with the cheekiest little swipe to make the man's lips part as to further deepen the contact. As the human relaxed into it, he let himself be manoeuvred back to lie flat, Connor coming up on top in a fluid motion. They enjoyed the kiss for another minute or so until the android pulled off to sit upright, seeming very pleased with himself as he planted his hands on the chest of the man below.

"Though I have to admit, I'm not completely averse to this either."

"Yeah, so I gather."

Hank needed to catch his breath for a moment. He didn't mind. He was perfectly content to just take in the current sight, bringing his hands up to smooth over the creamy thighs of the android who was currently straddling him. Connor was even more beautiful in the daylight. Though bright-eyed and attentive, the sleep-tousled curls on his head softened his general appearance and Hank's heart alike. Much as the human had suspected since that first glimpse on Friday, his body had been lovingly designed and sculpted with incredible detail. Though it was a bit creepy to think such dedication had been put into the manufacturing of an android that wasn't specifically developed to be viewed nude, he wasn't going to complain about it now. Hank drifted a hand across the android's chest and felt content to get himself reacquainted with some beauty marks he'd encountered the night before.

With his knees pressed into the mattress on either side of Hank, Connor was posed proudly, enjoying the close attention he was being paid after having craved it for what had felt like ages. He relished that slow, appreciating gaze dragging itself up and down his body - all along the lithe yet well defined limbs, from limber and now relaxed shoulders down over his chest and toned abdomen and further down to the base where he'd had those sublime genital components installed. This was all on display, and ready for the taking. Hank kneaded at that willowy form a bit more heavy handedly. When he swept his attention back up to the android's face, it was to be met with a smug expression.

"Like what you see?"

Hank dug his fingers in the tensile flesh of the android's backside, enjoying the small jolt that elicited in response.

"Hmm, I dunno... the verdict is still out. I'd like to request a closer examination."

Connor grinned and tipped forward to get swept up in another kiss, though this time he made the contact so much more of a sweet torment by repeatedly rolling his hips down, unhurriedly grinding his own unclothed groin against that of the man underneath.

Finally, Hank broke away to ask the agonizing question which he knew needed to be addressed.

"How much time have you got?"

Connor sighed. The answer came immediately, him being well aware of the fact even while feeling up and fondling his partner like this.

"Just over half an hour. Maybe a little longer, though the cab will probably get here on time."

Hank crowded him closer to his chest. God damn it. That was too soon. He felt so stupid for having slept in, though his body had been so relaxed and at ease that he just couldn't have helped it.

"I know," Connor soothed, "I know... Though that should still give us plenty of time to, you know." That zealous hand started wandering anew.

Hank chuckled. "You're insatiable."

"You're welcome."

The android kissed him again, slow and deep. Then, he pulled away to continue a trail of kisses down the man's face, from his jawline to his neck, over his chest to tend to a soft nipple and further down. Hank keened low in the back of his throat, but reached out to touch his partner lightly on the shoulder, halting him where he'd gotten halfway acrosss the man's abdomen. Connor looked up in confusion.

"No?"

"We should probably... We have more pressing matters to get to."

"Are you sure?"

Hank looked down into those honest, warm brown eyes, and knew he really had the final say on this. Somehow, even in this brief span of time they'd got to share together, this thing between them had become so significant and genuine that the android would do anything for him. To be wanted like this was still a lot. Perhaps even more jarring than to want so intensely again, himself. It was a mutual need he utterly wanted to give in to. Unfortunately for them both, they needed to be practical instead of getting completely swept up in that slippery slope of desire. Though there could still be tenderness. There could still be caretaking, even if it couldn't be through any type of sexual romp, at the moment.

"Yeah." He took one hand into his own, then pulled it close to plant a kiss. "I'd love for you to- but no, honey. I can't let you take an eight-hour flight without a proper shower first."

Even Connor had to admit to the logic of that. He dropped his head on the soft paunch below in defeat.

"Fine, point taken. But you're coming in with me."

Hank ruffled that head of messy brown curls. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Reluctant to get up but knowing time was slipping away without mercy, the both of them untangled and slipped out of bed to go freshen up.

The ensuite to the blue room was a bit more luxurious, and its shower could accomodate them both. Hank turned the faucet and took his seat at the small built in ledge. Even with ample space, Connor immedately decided to consciously disable some of his sexual functioning to make it through without wanting to initiate more. He simply stepped into the spray and grabbed his loofah to rub off any remnants of the previous night, using the small bottles of complimentary shower gear and passing them on to Hank, too. They washed themselves in a serene and companionable silence. At least, until the android started contorting in the strangest angles to somehow manage washing the entire surface of his back efficiently. Seeing that play out, Hank laughed.

"Wow, you're flexible."

Connor turned and smiled freely. "Oh, little do you know."

The man shook his head, still washing his own body as well. "Sure I'll find out at some point."

Though Connor knew his insides were steadily fixed in place, it still felt like they did some sort of backflip at the thought of them pursuing this thing, seeing it through and developing their bond further. Before he could broach the subject, he noticed Hank was struggling a bit more to reach everything.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, 's just..." he grimaced, "I brought a back scrubber from home, left it in my own room."

"I can do it."

"Hah... Really? Uh, thanks."

There was something incredibly tender and loveable about seeing this man who'd taken care of him so well, sitting naked with flattened and soapy hair, looking up and waiting to be taken care of in turn. Especially with some of the previous' nights endeavours having left notable traces. No amount of shower gel would be able to wash off the purpling skin of the lovebites Connor had made on his partner's chest. God, some of the things they'd done the previous night...

Hank leaned back a bit as he noticed he was being assessed, shooting a lazy, lopsided grin. With permission, Connor let his eye roam. From one scar to another, to the body hair sticking flat or curly, eyes, fingernails, nipples, soft cock nestled against his pubic hair.

Seeing each other like this felt exponentially more intimate than anything they'd done the night prior. The lust had been sated (for now), yet the longing for companionship remained.

Connor stepped forward to stand between the other man's legs, who now leaned forward and placed his hands on the back of the android's thighs. Without any motive to it - only feeling the material, skimming up and down while the other in turn pushed those grey locks to the back and let the suds of Hank's shampoo run down his spine, working the loofah across that plane to get him clean. Connor felt more tenderness surge when he noticed the last fading streaks his nails had drawn where he'd raked them in the throes of their coupling. He soothed his hands across the skin, cherishing the trails his partner probably hadn't even noticed, fading too fast for him to see.

Whether or not he realised why, Hank picked up on the further shift of the mood and drew the android closer, placing a kiss on his midriff. Connor had steeled himself to stay concentrated on the practical side: to get cleaned up, pack, maybe sit together on the porch for as long as they could before he had to leave. Yet the sentimentality crept in. He was too weak to withstand. As Hank kissed his skin again, the android folded himself around the man, bending down to wrap both arms around broad shoulders and keep him close. His head dropped to rest on top. After a few seconds, the android sighed deeply and slunk all the way down to his knees, pressing his chest against his partner to fit together in a more satisfying way.

"Hey, it's okay," Hank murmured, while smoothing his own hands up and down the android's back. This only made things worse. Connor couldn't hold back the tears any longer.

It was decidedly not okay. He didn't want to leave. He knew it would be the right thing to do for multiple reasons. For his own best interests, as well as others'. He'd committed to this. He _had_ to leave.

Connor had already learned so much in the short time he'd been granted conscious life. He'd made some mistakes, let the guilt fester until it all had built up to a point he couldn't take it any more. Too scared to address and process his feelings, stubbornly choosing to move on as if he could live while carrying that burden, steadily ignoring the knowledge that he couldn't. These first steps towards making it right had been absolutely terrifying. Yet, he had made it through. Thanks to someone who'd willingly committed to supporting him even without knowing the full extent of his inner turmoil, just because he'd recognised something worth the attention any way. But also due to his own developing sense of self worth, which had grown only swifter when encouraged and patiently reinforced. Though the confidence had yet to bloom in full, he had grown more steadfast in his persuasion to believe that maybe he could get there, one day.

He shouldn't stop while he was on a roll, not while he was only just embarking on this voyage to make right the immense wrong that had been haunting him for close to two months. And that had been due to his own actions, even with full access to his own viewpoint and understanding in the experience. How much had this same event been eating away at Richard as he had been left to deal with that chaotic sene of confusion on his own? Yet every day was a new chance to try again and do better. To not disappoint others, or himself, at least by trying to improve on the mistakes he'd made before he'd known better.

The attempt at a human life as an android was terrifying. The absolute dread in the foresight of years and years of consciousness, the eternal life that'd landed in his lap without a clear start or end point to it - only the endless state of expected productivity. Now with the added complications of emotion to navigate, which inevitably ran through every one of his actions and decisions he made. The independence and his accountability for any mistakes he could end up with as a result, to put it bluntly, sucked. To fail, to let people down, to start with such high expectations and then risk turning out as worse than mediocre was agonising. And still. Though life had been an unsatisfying yet thankfully ignorant walk in the park before deviancy, he wouldn't have it any other way, now. Connor realised he was starting to trust that a mistake didn't have to mean the end of the world, not if he could address it with genuine concern and empathy and could rely on the kindness of others so he could try to earn their forgiveness.

He decided he'd use his time alotted to do something right.

At least trying to patch things up with Richard was a responsibility he couldn't continue to walk away from. He had to face his own impact in what he'd done, admit to it and help his fellow android heal. Even if he couldn't undo the past, he could still be there now to own up and put in a better effort at being kind to the person he'd wronged and selfishly deserted.

Who knows. Perhaps mending their bond could turn out to be mutually beneficial. Perhaps, to share with him how he was feeling about everything that had happened and hearing Richard's point of view in turn, could teach Connor a thing or two about his personal identity and its development so far. Not to mention its development to come, and where he wanted to guide it. Perhaps open communication on Richard's experience could help him understand so much more. After all, Richard was the later incarnation, the more advanced model in their shared prototype line. Connor had to admit he was far from perfect. Perhaps if he could take courage and inspiration from this model that was so similar to him, he could use this terrifying and directionless freedom he'd been given and finally find a way to develop a steadier image of his own personhood. And though he felt like Hank would be the type of person to support him either way - Connor nuzzled closer and reaffirmed it for himself, yes, he was being held even now, while he was still no where near steady footing - perhaps he could grow into becoming someone truly worthy of that kind of love.

The android was fully determined to work on himself. To leave and make things right. To give himself a chance to build and rebuild, now that he had found a real incentive to improve himself for.

And yet, to be kept safe and protected right here and now, crouching naked in their shower...

Hank simply held him through the sudden fit, knowing there wasn't much else he was able to do but be an anchoring presence. It took a few more minutes before the sobs and hiccups had fully subsided. Connor drew back, cupped some water in his hands and splashed it on his face. He wanted all traces of the tears he'd shed gone. He looked apologetically towards Hank, who was still seated on the bench and watching him, wary and patient. Connor scoffed in embarrasment.

"Sorry for that. We have a perfect evening for you to remember me by, only for me to start crying the morning after. Idiot."

Hank put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. "Hey, don't worry about it. Nothing you do can ruin how I feel about you. I'm savouring whatever time we have, either way."

"Still. To be spending our last moments like this."

The man hummed sympathetically, then screwed his eyebrows together.

"Fuck, how much time have we got left?"

Connor made a weak attempt at a laugh as he rose to his feet, sticking close. "A good fifteen minutes. Why, did you change your mind on that quickie?"

Hank smiled back indulgently as he let himself get drawn up from the ledge. "No, there's something else we should get to before you go. Get dressed and pack. I'll meet you at the reception area in a few, alright?"

The main level of the Inn was deserted. Much like on the day of his first arrival, Connor hesitantly made his way over to the reception desk to put down his sleek little pilot case before walking around in search of Hank. He made use of the opportunity to take in the appearance of the Inn for the last time, committing all details to memory.

The kitchen and its saloon doors, jars scattered across the various surfaces along the vintage appliances. With central, the kitchen island where they'd shared their first meal. Onto the warm and welcoming dining area they'd had all to themselves, yet they'd chosen to occupy only the smallest little private nook for their dinner on the night they'd both opened up more, willing to confide in one another. And then the living room. The heart of the house, the space where they'd really connected before moving things upstairs. Connor wished he could pack up the entire place and take it with him, as a comfort blanket, as a safe haven. From the thin yellow curtains and wicker chairs down to the last bit of sea glass or candle stick, he wanted this room to stay preserved exactly the way it was. In just a few crazy days, it had become a place with significant meaning to him.

The dog was part of that, of course. He got on his knees as the Saint Bernard made his way over, just fed and now looking for some attention. Connor stroked the fur a few times before really leaning in and hugging Sumo, who seemed untroubled to let it happen. The android only drew back when he heard the sound of footsteps. It hurt to see the other covered up in clothes again after having been granted the gratuitous privilege of intimacy.

This meant it didn't immediately sink in, what he was holding in his hands. Having come from the ground level, Hank gazed softly as he held up a few supplies, and it melted Connor from the inside. Of course he had noticed. Of course he would care.

The man gestured towards the reception desk. Connor needed some help getting up but once seated, it put Hank at perfect height with the area that needed tending to. The android unbuttoned his shirt again and slid one side off. He couldn't quite look into the other's eyes.

"How'd you know?"

Hank huffed gently and amused as he rifled through the necessities. "I did get my hands on you pretty thoroughly, yesterday."

"That you did."

The patch of dermal coating which sat a few inches below Connor's armpit waned to reveal the chassis below. Though it had been straightened clean and taut over the dented little oval, the lack of any solid texture underneath had betrayed where he was still inefficiently patched. Hank now moved into his personal space to trace his fingers along the messy attempts at self repair. The seperate shards of the crack had been glued together again with some adhesive and it looked like there had been as least some attempt to bring that damaged area level again with the rest of his side, but the final result looked sloppy and uneven.

"Does it hurt?"

Connor shook his head.

"It's only an aesthetic flaw. You don't have to bother," he said, already willingly exposed and owning up to the fact he really could use the fixing. Hank put a steadying hand on the android's upper thigh.

"I wouldn't mind. Not if you don't."

Connor hesitated for a moment. "You'll have to get a hand inside. If you really want to smoothe it out."

The other was already pushing up his sleeves.

"Okay."

Connor was surprised at how smoothly this went. Trying to fix the fracture on his own had meant struggling, facing some difficulty to get his hand between his internal hardware at the right angle to support the cracked surface as he patched the outside. Even though the repair kit was quite extensive (and with some knowledge of what Markus had been through, Connor understood as to why he'd want to be so meticulously prepared), it was still a difficult feat to manage on his own. Now, with two extra hands, it was easy as can be. Hank still needed some guidance, but they managed alright. Though Connor felt some apprehension at being literally exposed, the other man seemed nonplussed about it, making him more at ease instantly. This was just necessary upkeep, tending to a vulnerability they were both opening up to. So Connor sat perched atop the reception desk, at the right level for access. The android retracted his skin and allowed for the nearest chest component to clip aside, allowing for entrance. Hank carefully manoeuvred in one hand to fit between the working biocomponents and damaged plate, disappearing up to the wrist to properly reach. Connor held some of the appliances as his shoddy patchup was softened and cleaned with a corrosive solution Hank very gingerly swabbed at the outside. Once that solution was fully deterged, the hand inside pushed the malleable spider web of hard and soft material to sit flush and even with the rest of the chassis. Connor handed over a tube of adhesive, and Hank spread the solution liberally, letting it seep into the wound until he could feel it on his fingertips inside.

"Right," he gauged, "can you hand me the UV lamp? I'll support from the inside till it's mended, and then you're good to go."

Connor cleared his throat. "I'll hold it."

"That's fine, I've got this hand free."

"I'd prefer it if you- kept it on me."

Hank paused. Considering he wasn't an expert on android repairs, he wasn't certain whether he was processing this request correctly.

"Doesn't the gel dry smooth under the light? I thought it gets all evened out and neat if you just do it like that."

"Which is exactly what I don't want."

They had to make eye contact then. Hank could feel Connor start thrumming slightly through the direct connection he had, one hand still buried underneath the android's outer plating.

"I'd like it if... If I could have your fingerprints on me. To have them with me, as I go. Inside and out. Unless, of course-"

"Are you sure?"

Those deep brown eyes seemed more evocative and profound than ever. Even without the exact right words to convey his feelings, they carried all meaning.

"Yes. Unless you- unless you wouldn't want to do that, of course."

Hank slowly pulled his hand back from the outer side of the wound. He moved it to Connor's cheek, and drew the android towards him for a deliberate and deeply heartfelt kiss. Connor's eyes drifted shut in relief, relishing the contact, knowing it'd be one of the last kisses they'd have in a long time. Again he tried to engrain into his memory every little detail of their contact, the way he'd been trying to log every touch, every lingering glance and confirmation of attachment he'd been given during his stay. The collection was growing exponentially, taking up more and more data of his memory bank. They'd shared so much and so little over this one extended weekend. It'd never be enough. This would have to be enough.

Hank then broke the kiss, though he kept looking the other in the eye as he moved his hand to its previous position, fingertips carefully holding the break in place both inside and out. Connor held up the flat disc of the UV lamp to cure the material. The adhesive solution melted with the cracks and settled in place. When they both withdrew, the shy markings remained apparent on his side, subtle yet clear as day. Hank slipped his hand out from where it had been nestled inside the android's core, and the protective panel slid back into place. Then, slowly, the dermal coating spread again, shielding the despite its solidity somehow vulnerable looking white and grey underlayer from view.

Hank placed his hands around the android's torso, steadily holding him in place a bit longer, even if the task had been completed and there really was no more reason or excuse for him to be kept any longer. The man leaned in to press his lips to that small patch that'd been healed, now kept perfectly safe under the flawlessly rendered skintone.

As Connor put the lamp down on the deskspace behind him, he spotted the same mobile device he'd used to check in only four nights ago. He now reached for it again. Touching it gently, he confirmed his official departure. It beeped in compliance.

He felt the man sigh on a shaky exhale where he stayed stubbornly leaning against his torso. Connor brought up a hand to gently twirl a strand of Hank's hair. It was still damp from their shower together.

"How long?"

Connor checked with the smart house system. He was sorry to know the taxi hadn't faced any difficulties and would be arriving on time. "ETA in six minutes."

He felt the vibrations of the man's groan echo through his torso cavity. Which seemed appropriate, since his own sentiment was experienced exactly the same.

Connor, Hank and Sumo all made their way down to the ground level together. They stood in wait on the asphalt, Connor's small pilot case on the ground beside him and Hank with his hands in his jean pockets as Sumo trotted a few circles around them before heading off to sniff some of the clutter underneath the house. The two remained side by side, facing the main road in expectance of the OBX taxi. Hank exhaled and tied his hair back to keep it from getting too ruffled in the breeze. He tried to sound cheery as he addressed the other man.

"So. Exciting times ahead. D'you reckon you'll get to see Richard, today?"

"Probably," Connor pondered. "The plane should land by nightfall. The bus will only take a few more hours to get me to the village in the rainforest. The administration at their Centro de Salud is aware of my impending arrival."

"And you got your Spanish dictionary?"

Connor gave a wry smile and tapped at his LED. "He instalado."

"Good. Good. Then you're all set. Did you take some extra thirium packs with you?"

Connor turned to Hank, tugged at his arm until the man relented and allowed for his hand to be held.

"... I just worry, is all."

"I'll be fine."

"Yeah."

"I wish I could stay."

"Me too, kid."

Now Hank was the one struggling to hold back tears. He had the feeling that, should he start, he wouldn't be able to stop. He wanted to wait until Connor had left for that to happen, knowing that the sight of his distress might be enough to drive the other to cancel these necessary plans and remain stateside.

Connor looped his arms around the man, simply holding on without trying to initiate anything else. Some things still needed to be said.

"I can't tell you how long I'll be there. It might be a long time."

"I know. That's fine though, I mean, as long as it takes, right?"

And already, the man was fearing what time and distance might do to them. Even though he believed Connor's honest devotion, the human couldn't help but be rational and realistic about their odds, nor could he ignore the valid critical points his mind supplied. Connor was young. Passionate and convinced, but maybe still a bit naive and starry-eyed in regards to how life often worked out. He didn't have the same knowledge from experience which Hank had. He knew that though distance could make the heart grow fonder, that didn't always make it easy for the relationship to last. Sometimes, it only made it more painful and difficult to maintain. Even with the best intentions, time and distance could make people grow apart. He desperately wanted to hope that wouldn't be the case for them, but the wedge between them would hurt whether it'd one day be closed again or not.

The two drew closer together in their embrace. Hank tucked his face into the side of Connor's neck, staying hidden there for as long as he could and inhaling deeply, trying to commit the last fleeting details of this person to memory before he had to go. He ignored the sound of a cab pulling up and coming to a halt.

Connor sighed wistfully. He didn't want to leave, either. But a timer inside was ticking away. He should get going. He had a long day of travel ahead, and it wouldn't do to already mess up today's plans by missing his flight. He could only allow for himself to stay enclosed in this contact for a few moments longer before he had to break away. Otherwise, they'd only stand there until the end of time.

Connor retreated a few inches to look into Hank's eyes, needing to make sure it was safe for him to go.

"Will you be alright?" he asked.

Hank snorted. It was a poor cover for the helpless crying he felt more like doing right now. "God, yeah, of course I'll be fine. You worry about yourself now, first." He rubbed a hand up and down Connor's spine before he had to let him go. Though the android carried so little bagage, it still felt right to, as a final act as a host, carry the suitcase to the cab for him. Its door slid open, and the human reached inside to safely secure the disarmingly small pilot case. Something about that image only made him cave in a little more, inside. Hank couln't help but worry - would _he_ be alright? Even if androids weren't as fragile and needy as humans were, did he pack enough things to make it through? It hurt to see the android with so little possessions, so little material proof of things and people he was connected to. Signs of life, of having touched things and left an impact. It felt off-kiltering to see everything relating to this android packed away in a tiny case when Connor carried so much more meaning as a person.

"There, all set." He turned back around to the android in question, who stood dawdling. They hugged again. This was starting to feel ridiculous. How often were they going to say goodbye? It felt like dying a little, over and over again. Would they just keep pushing and pulling indefinitely like this, trying to delay the inevitable?

Time was up. There was no logical reason to put this off any longer. Connor kept Hank's face cradled in his hands as he felt the urge to emphasize his intentions just once more, for good measure. He pressed his forehead against the human's, breathing together into their small bit of private space.

"I'll come back, okay?" he whimpered. "I'll go over there to make things right. I'll write every week, and then I'll come back home to you."

"I'd like that," Hank choked out.

Connor surged forward to kiss him one last time. They looked each other in the eye, acknowledging what was mutually there even if they both knew it was too fragile to voice right now. Connor laid a hand on Hank's chest, felt his heart beating steady, and then turned to enter the waiting taxi. He didn't look back. He couldn't let himself look back. Outwardly stoic and composed, he fluently moved to take his seat and let the door slide shut. He pulled his silver keychain from his pocket and let the flat disc roll along his knuckles, not allowing himself to focus on anything else but that right now.

Similarly, Hank turned away. There was nothing left to be done. He didn't want to stand and watch as Connor was obscured and taken away from him. He walked back in the direction of the house as the car started up again, rolled across the asphalt and to the highway, disappearing behind the dunes.

Now, for the first time in days, Hank was left to face things on his own again. His eyes settled on the large, worn and grey structure of Inn. It seemed so much bleaker already. While Connor had made him feel like summer had returned in full, now it hit that they'd only just dipped their toes in spring. The rose-tinted glasses had been snatched away, and what remained was only a deserted and melancholy structure. He didn't want to go inside to be faced with those empty rooms, devoid of Connor's presence. The wound of his departure was too delicate, too fresh. He knew that if he were to submit himself to the isolation now, he'd crumble in full. He had to clear his head for a while.

Half numb, he made his way to where his dog was sniffing at some garbage bins beneath the raised foundation of the Inn, and absently gave some pets before retrieving a leash. He only wished they could've done this together. All bundled up, to walk along the beach side by side and enjoy each other's company in full while performing even a mundane thing like walking Sumo. Except now he was - no. No, this was ridiculous. Connor had only just left. He couldn't let himself fall into that pit of negative thinking, so fast. It'd be a disservice to dismiss everything they'd get to live through up to this point. That couldn't be rendered meaningless the second Connor had left. He could choose to let the good feelings linger, and let them warm him like a hearth from within. He could carry that presence with him even if they had parted.

Hank stayed focused on the Saint Bernard as they continued their walk, limiting his field of vision to only this narrow sliver of the world surrounding them. He was vaguely surprised when they came upon the random debris in the sand. Some broken slats which seemed to have been part of a decorative porch railing, now all wrapped up in a tangled fishing net post-storm. Once the dog was done investigating it, he reacted to something else along the beach and barked. Hank looked up to see. Without consciously realising it, they'd stumbled upon one of the older houses close to the shoreline, which maybe at one point had been built at a safe distance, but had been encroached upon throughout the years as the sea gained territory in steady increments. While before the weekend these shacks had seemed desolated, now they were bursting with activity as Hank could spot several people working on repairing the damage. The ease and strength with which some of them moved betrayed their biomechanical status. The physical wear and tear of other workers hinted that a good amount of humans had decided to lend a helping hand too.

He might as well pull his weight. Even if he was a fraud in his motivation to help - his general feeling of empathy temporarily set on a back burner as first and foremost, his need for a distraction in physical work was provided with an immediate outlet. An effective mechanism to stay ahead and out of reach of his own brittle feelings.

"Hey," he called out to a small collection of figures ripping off remnants of old, rotted wooden porch stairs. The stripping revealed some haphazardly placed concrete blocks underneath, only providing marginal support as they sat crooked in the sand. The workers looked up to appraise the new arrival.

"Hello. Hank, right? Carl's friend?"

"Right." He readjusted his grip on Sumo's leash. "You guys got room for another set o' hands?"

"Sure, come on up. The place got flooded the other night. You seem strong enough to maybe move some things inside the house - I've just notified Shaolin, he'll take you through what needs to happen."

"Can I leave my dog out here?"

"We'll keep an eye on him, no problem."

"Thanks."

On autopilot, he secured the dog's leash to one of the still functional rungs at the front of the house, then made his way inside, sidestepping some toppled furniture to help someone else clear their mess.

It was already noon by the time Hank laid eyes again on the Inn, returning sweaty and worn out from having thown himself in the communal volunteering. More than a few tendrils of hair had slipped loose from where he'd tied it back, now whipping freely in the wind. Having completely lost himself in the work, he felt like he matched the scenery more than ever. Windswept and bleak, worn, barren. Wanting to be covered in a layer of sand or salt or the gently rolling waves to fade into a larger whole. The man felt tired, only partly in that satisfying way where you stop caring about your troubles. A larger part felt tired at having to face the inescapable which crept back into view. He couldn't postpone this any longer. He had his own flight to catch in a few hours' time and despite Markus' reassurances that there was no need, it only felt right for him to be the one to clean up the last remnants of his and Connor's stay.

He walked up to the patch of driveway from house to ocean and led Sumo to the kennels below. He thought it best to keep the dog there to tidy the place in peace. The dog didn't mind. He'd gotten plenty of attention from the other workers, and was ready for some down time. Hank nuzzled his dog close before he stepped out again, latching the kennel door and heading upstairs.

All the time that had settled between Connor's leaving and the current moment still couldn't have prepared him for stepping back into the domestic space they'd shared. Entering the reception area, the stark and solemn loneliness hit like a pile of bricks. Especially considering Connor hadn't left any traces here: living near ascetic and unassumingly humble without taking up too much space, grateful of any ounce of space he'd been allowed and reluctant to push that border any further. Whatever negligible amount of clutter he'd made on the communal storey, he'd insisted on rectifying again himself. Hank knew all the clutter present - the stray item of clothing, scraps in the fridge, any dog toy or hairs were remnants linked only to his own occupation of the space.

The man figured he might as well get the worst thing out of the way to start, and headed right up to the second level to air out the bedroom.

He'd foolishly thought that maybe, at least, that first hurt of seeing the neutral grounds of the common area would soften the blow, but of course nothing could. From the moment he reached the top of the stairs and looked through the hallway into their room through its open door, he felt something inside crumble bit by bit, at risk of being picked up by the wind and carried off in full if he didn't shield himself from the hurt completely. But this needed to be done. He had to confront this. His feet led him closer to the treshold and then, just like that, across.

The scene caused a slight clench around his heart, as his eyes roved around. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but still, the room seemed disarmingly messy and lived in. With its rumpled bedsheets, the chair still arranged the way Connor had preferred it, the curtains half drawn and a sea shell trinket dish lying next to the nightstand where they had knocked it off overnight. He half expected the android to come walking out of the ensuite while towel drying his hair, to throw a radiant smile and move towards him again. Perhaps to indulge in another deep kiss before he'd get dressed and they'd go about their day.

Of course, the adjoining bathroom was empty.

Hank settled for a quick washing up, not allowing himself to think about the time they'd spent here only a few hours ago. He only scrubbed at his skin until he felt clean again, rinsed of any outside grime sticking to him. He went through the motions absently, until he finished up and looked in the mirror. There - like a brand new man.

He gathered all the towels they had used and dropped them in a heap on the floor. Then made his way over to the balcony to slide open the door and let in some fresh air. To be faced with the soothingly calm waterfront felt a bit strange and disorienting. This room had such a picturesque little balcony. They hadn't made use of it. He would've loved sitting up here with Connor, snuggled in close with a blanket, to watch the sunrise. But this morning, he'd slept in. Now the sun was cresting the sky and Connor was gone. Yet another opportunity he had wasted. But no, Hank reasoned, as he straightened out both chairs on that private balcony with a brusque movement. Perhaps they could get that chance another time. In a few months, a year, however long it took for Connor to return to him. As long as Hank's age, depression and demanding job would allow for him to make it till then, as well.

Turning back inside, he went straight for the bed and stripped it. The man didn't allow for himself to really put much thought into it. This was just his performing of a task, clean cut and impersonal. He wadded the sheets up as a heavy ball and dropped them atop the towels, then crouched down to wrap the bundle into one large pack. He went about the room straightening a few more miscallaneous items before he picked up the laundry and dragged it to the hallway. He didn't want to surrender himself to stepping into the empty room again. He closed the door behind him, knowing the half open patio door to the balcony would ventilate the room until all traces of them having slept there together would be dissipated.

Clearing the yellow room felt easier, already. He knew he'd made it through the most painful part. The bright colours of his assigned quarters felt laughably out of place, which was in a way sobering. He was being dumb. He was a responsible, experienced adult of a man. He could handle this. It was stupid to get all wrapped up in this needless sentimentality. Everything was going to be fine.

He zipped up his travel case with a final austere gesture and hauled it off the bed. Brought that out into the hallway, then returned for his own towels and to pull off the sheets he'd spent all but one night in. He stubbornly balled all the fabric together into one larger pack to tow up to the next floor for cleaning.

Closing the door on one of the near industrial-sized washing machines was a painful neccessity. Like a mercy killing, but a stab in the heart nonetheless. The last proof of Connor having existed within this place was now being put through the cleaning cycle, soon to be eradicated in full. Well... he touched a hand to his chest, thinking of the lovebites that'd been left there. Though they would fade immensely faster than his memories of what they'd been through so far, he was still glad and reassured to have this clear evidence of validity to hang onto - of these past few days having been real.

And whether it would last? Hank was sorry to say the doubt crept back in, the moment he was left alone with his thoughts. The past few days he'd got to spend with the android had been unreal. He felt lucky to have had them. Having been given this pure captivated brand of puppy love, he knew he could've pressed and manipulated that fixation to keep Connor here. If he had been a selfish man, perhaps he might have. It definitely would have made him happier to keep the other man close, to never let him go again now that they'd both found a second shot at life, a tangible happiness in the form of each other's company. But he had grown to love the android too much to keep him contained. This would be better for him - to take that chance, see his plan through and take further steps to becoming more fully his own individual person. Perhaps, by going out into the world, he'd only discover better things and realise he could be happier without Hank. Hell, surely there were better chances, opportunities, experiences and people than the ideal that Hank had imagined for them - the soft bliss of a quiet life together. The android deserved that more exuberant taste of what life had to offer. If he discovered he liked it and moved on, that'd be painful. But to know he'd be somewhere out there and living his new life to the fullest, that would at least soothe the bittersweet pain of Hank never getting to see him again.

His phone buzzed. Automatically, Hank extracted it from his pocket. A message from Carl: they were about to depart from New York and would arrive back here in only a few hours' time. Hank didn't want to be here to meet them, nor was he expected to be. He was permitted to let the laundry run its cycle, leave the rooms ventilated and run home without facing anyone. Thank fuck.

He left the upper levels for what they were and headed to the first storey for a final run through. The place felt so much bigger without any other presence, even despite its cheery arrangement of warm colours, beach-themed trinkets and the art works of both Carl and Markus which had made it a like home. A comforting refuge to shield both himself and Connor from harm. But he'd always known the stay would be temporary. At least he'd be returning to his child. God, how he had missed Cole. He couldn't wait to have his son safe in his arms again.

Hank cracked open another small window or two to let some fresh air circulate. Having cleared up and without any more reason to stay, he left his spare key atop the reception desk and headed out, ready to make the long trek home.


	7. Spring, summer, fall, winter... and spring again

_Well, I've officially exited American territory for the first time in my life. It's exhilirating, though I do wish I had you here with me. We've only just said goodbye a few hours ago and I've committed every detail of our time together to memory. Still, I find myself missing you. I'll make sure to log my experiences while I'm away. I can't wait to share it all with you and will carry a piece of you with me until I get that chance._   
_While on this plane and up until I've reached the city I'll still be in connection with Wi-Fi, but this will change once I board the bus and make my way to the clinic. Though we have access to running water, apparently the electricity and generator are touch and go. Contact from there will be spotty and irregular. At least I'll always be able to reach you through the modem connection of the local post office, which is only a short trek along the west incline of the mountains. I'll cherish the moments I can reach out to you and try my very best to make that happen as often as possible. Please write back to me whenever you can. I know you'll be busy again with your own life, but hope you won't forget about me._

_Hey - just got Cole back home. Not gonna lie, I was ready to hold him forever and never let go again, but eventually he had to go unpack his bag and all that. Your message was a real comfort to read. I'm so excited for you, and proud that you're committing to this. I miss you, too. Be safe._

_On my way to the Centro de Salud right now. Our bus will board in about five minutes. I think I'm burning through my thirium reserves even faster with every mile I get closer to Richard. I wonder if he can sense me coming. Hope he won't run, should that be the case! I'm trying to make light of the fact because in truth, I'm freaking out. If this is a bad idea, it's too late to turn back. I'm already on a different continent. Seems silly to cut it all short now. I'll get back to you with more updates as soon as I can._

_I met him. It happened. It's still difficult to gauge his feelings. I may have messed up and got off on the wrong foot instantly, since I still had him mentally filed under an incorrect name. Though I didn't speak it out loud, I think he still picked up on and reacted negatively to my clear surprise when we were introduced. Apparently he goes by Niles now? He's still trying to figure some things out about himself, which I think is a good sign. I hope to maybe help him with that, for him to confide in me. Though I shouldn't get my hopes up - right now he has zero reason to depend on me, of course. But maybe some time in the future, when I've proven myself worthy of his trust. I'm not sure how he feels about me being here._

_Don't overthink it. Power down for the night. You've had an exhausting time._

_Good night._

_Cole slept in the bed with me. Practically smothered him overnight, I'm sure. I told him he can take a few days off school, but he wanted to go back to show off his bruises to all his friends. In a way, it's a relief that he seems so casual, even excited about the whole ordeal. When I first saw those bruises myself, I damn near cried. Could thankfully keep it together until I had a moment alone and then bawled my fucking eyes out. People always say kids grow up fast, but he's still just a kid, my kid, and seeing marks of the damage on his little kid body was just, I don't know. I'm gonna strangle that guy. Can't believe he nearly got my kid killed. We're so incredibly lucky the crash wasn't worse. To think of the impact that 'minor' collision already had on him?_   
_Sorry, I'm at my desk right now and was getting a little worked up over it, got a coffee break and think maybe I shouldn't delve too much into that right now. Anyway, dropping him off this morning physically hurt. I need to consciously remind myself all the time not to squeeze the poor kid too tight, but I just want to keep him safe with me. Hope your first night went okay. Can androids get insomnia or do you just conk out regardless of what's going on?_

_It's so beautiful here. So astonishingly green. I feel like finally I can breathe. It feels right to have some time away from the States, to be on my own and reconsider some decisions I've made. It's only been a few weeks, but I feel like being here has provided a whole new perspective on life, already. To be honest I do feel a bit out of place here - a fully artifical being in a place that seems so overwhelmingly natural, where even the houses and roads seem to have grown as part of the landscape - yet the group of volunteers has been very welcoming in helping me integrate. As for Niles - he acted as if we're strangers, something I should respect and have decided to follow him in. Others assume we maintain some distance due to initial feelings of discomfort. It's clear that we're from the same line due to our close physical resemblance, a reminder of manufacturing which many androids feel distressed due to. Thankfully, it seems like that makes our contact (or lack thereof) an unlikely subject to be brought up, anytime soon._

_Hey, got your message from the other night. Give it some time. You knew it wouldn't be as simple as that. It's probably a good sign that he's just leaving you be, waiting it out to see for himself how you're acting, right now. So just do what you set out to do. Focus on the work and wait for him to ease up. If he asks you to leave, that's one thing. But don't let yourself get too worked up when you don't really know what he's thinking._

_Ugh, just spilled my lunch all over myself. This sucks. Wish I was still in NC with you. How've you been holding up? Feel free to reply whenever._

_Your advice has meant a lot. For the past few weeks, I've been focusing on the work. People are very grateful for my assistance, and though it feels deceitful of me to come here at least in part for my own personal peace of mind, I'm trying to not let that cloud the fact that my actions are still positive, and I see tangible proof of me putting something back into the world every day. It's immensely relieving and validating to be considered a positive addition to this group. Even with all my patches and updates, there's a lot to learn from both the humans and fellow androids I've encountered so far. Niles still seems confused at my being here, though he just leaves me be. We haven't interacted since I first got here. I still haven't mentioned to anyone that we know each other, as to not make things awkward or force him to explain anything he might not want to discuss. I can only wait and see how this'll turn out. At least I'm spending my time in a productive way until then._

_Got into a minor argument with Gavin today. He seems extra pissed off at me since we met him at his brother's house. Whatever. It's all water off a duck's back, since I know I can talk about it with you. Though I do wonder what his beef is. Does he think I'm gonna tell the whole precinct about his brother and their personal business? Whatever, I'm just gonna keep the contact with him to a minimum. He'll catch on eventually and stop being this annoying._

_Today I saw a black-breasted puffleg! I thought those had gone extinct!_

_I don't know about you, but time flies here. There's always more people to help. If not in the strictly medical, then in the social sense. On a slow day, I can spend my time visiting former patients and prolong my visit when asked to stay a while. Do you remember Rosa? Yesterday, I helped repair her water supply system together with another android of our team. She was apologetic, swore to us she would've gotten to it herself eventually and that we shouldn't strain ourselves. Which is something I doubt - apparently it'd been in this state since the mudslides from the wet season, which means it had been at least two months during which she'd been living this way. Ripple reassured her that she was allowed to rest easy, still recovering from the leg injury and all. It only took us a few hours to fix. When we got back to the clinic, there was still a lack of activity, so we got some maintenance on our own buildings done in addition._

_Talked to Cole about you. He noticed something was up, that I've been acting different lately. I don't mean to label what we have or pressure you into any type of commitment, just kind of explained that I've met someone last March and that we've been talking ever since. I was a bit worried about how he might take it (he hasn't really seen me with anyone since his mom) but he seemed to be pretty okay with it. Told him it'll always be me and him, all the same. But you know, anyway. Now you know that he knows._

_That's fine, don't worry about it! I'm thrilled to hear Cole knows about me, even if it's only the basic info. Do you want me to send a picture? So he can see what I look like?_

_A football tournament is in the planning stages! We noticed some of the local kids liked to play on the property, and since there's a flatter plane not too far from the main building, the suggestion was made quickly. It's a good chance for the people here to get more acquainted with androids, see that we don't mean any harm. I'm sorry to say that still seems to be a bit of a barrier in their consideration of whether or not it's safe to seek help at the clinic, though most of the people at the village are glad to have us._

_Hey, work has been crazy lately. I won't bother you with the details, it's pretty gruesome anyway. Can't talk in extent, we're about to head off on a new lead. Just wanted to shoot you a message for a sec. Take care._

_Another WR400 has recently joined our group. It made Ripple uncomfortable and melancholy, seeing an exact replica of herself. It only reminded her of her original function and mass-production, something she ran away from to start here anew. The second she eased up enough to voice these feelings, the new girl (she's called Echo) tried to resolve the issue by instantly warping her hair colour into the most unnatural shade of blue. It was so unexpected it only made Rip laugh. Though she insisted that initial negative association would fade, the new girl's kept it blue ever since, and it still makes people smile._

_Do you think it could be like some type of inside joke if I did the same? Maybe pink hair would suit me nicely. Though I don't get the feeling it'd make Niles laugh. Maybe he'd think I was trying to make light of the situation, and I'd only end up doing more damage to an already imperfect relationship with him._

_Ugh, there's a heat wave in Detroit right now and I think I'm dying. But check out Sumo's new trim!_

_I've made some progress! Niles addressed me today and asked for me to hand him a retractor while one of our human volunteers was definitely standing closer to it! At least, I'm pretty sure that was the case. Anyway, that has to mean something, right? Should I make the next move, or would that only come across as pushy? I want him to know this can come from both sides, that I'll meet him in the middle of whatever he's willing to initiate, but maybe I should temper myself and let that first contact stabilise a bit before anything else. But still! I'm feeling positive. Maybe it is good that I came here._

_Today, I took Cole to the Belle Isle Aquarium and thought of you. Maybe we could all go to that type of thing, some day. Just a thought._

_I'll be able to set up a video call pretty soon. Details will follow. Can't wait to see you again._

_God, it felt great to talk to you live. I've missed the sound of your voice. I already know I'll sleep better tonight._

_We've been making good use of the dry season to work on an expansion of the clinic. Soon, we'll be able to accomodate for 35% more beds. I've put some of my own savings into the purchase of renewable energy sources for the structure, though I thought it better to do so anonymously. I wouldn't want to risk giving Niles any type of wrong impression. It's actually quite interesting how the tropical climate can provide us_ _with green energy. Here, tell me what you think of these plans -_

_Got your package today! How did you even know it was my birthday? I absolutely love it, thanks. Cole already caught a glimpse of the second gift you had enclosed, but that's still wrapped up and hidden out of sight until the 23rd. You're too sweet._

_Talking like this made me realise there's so much I still don't know about you, but I'm thrilled to be given the chance to learn more through our communication. Do you enjoy the shift into autumn? What type of things do you typically partake in during this time of year? I want to know everything. I don't think I'll ever get tired of learning more about you. Ever since that one long weekend I honestly didn't believe my feelings for you could grow any stronger, and yet, the infatuation seems to grow deeper with every passing moment. I feel so lucky that our paths happened to cross. I'm even luckier that they're now running parallel still, though I desperately want for us to move closer._

_Haha yeah that's been a classic for decades. I think the cinnamon is key. I don't know, look it up, and if you can get all the spices together you'll understand what we're living through right now. Or I could mail you a blend through the post?_

_The jeep we were intending to use broke down today and the other two were taken, so I got to ride a donkey into town. The look on my face made everyone laugh, including him. I was so preoccupied with what that could mean that I lost my balance and fell right off its back, rolling a few feet down the slope until I more or less slammed into a tree. Niles was one of the people to help me back up! He even patted the dirt off my back before he returned to the group. He's no-nonsense but caring like that. It's the same way when he treats the children: he might look all stiff and serious, but it's clear to see that there's a real heart underneath that plating. I think I could still learn a lot from him._

_Saw a small handful of trick or treaters dressed up as androids, last night. What's your opinion on that, by the way? They looked pretty cute, but I'm not sure on the implications. Anyway, here's a pic of how Cole and his friends went while at Ashley's - apparently they got a lot of laughs out of it. And a lot of candy, I'll reckon! Curious to see if he'll still have any left by the time she drops him off again._

_To be honest, I'm not sure. Every season's got its ups and downs, but knowing the seasonal depression's gonna hit some time soon already got me tired in advance. Isn't that the dumbest shit you've ever heard? Feel like I'm actively ruining both the good and bad months I got. Whatever. I'm getting kinda used to it, at this point. Just gonna take the dog out for a walk so at least I can do something useful in the meantime until I can sort myself out. And like, I know you're no professional so don't feel stressed if you don't know but I figured, since you're also kinda struggling sometimes, have you found some coping mechanisms that actually work? If you reply with shit like 'mindful yoga' I can and will send some type of virus that plays you a non-stop earworm of a song._

_Hank. Those selfies you sent the other day. I can not stop thinking about them. I'm pretty sure that, should you unlatch the front panel of my forehead, you'd see them burned onto the casing permanently with how often I've reviewed them so far. The things I'll do to you the moment I get back..._

_I was so happy to have another video call with you! My favourite part was the way you lit up even more the moment Cole came into the room. What did he think about me, by the way? I got the impression that he liked me? I'll see if I can bring him some plants from here, haha._

_Hey, you don't have to apologise for that. I'm not as hot a commodity as you might for some reason have the impression I am but even if that were the case, I'd still choose to be with you. Ash and I just have a lot of respect and understanding for one another after years and years of having been so close. That kind of bond stays, even if the spark dies out and you go your seperate ways. I can understand if that's a concern to you, especially since we're on different continents, but please believe me when I say I'm interested in you and you alone._   
_It's not always easy for me to talk about emotional stuff but for fuck's sake Con, you've grown to mean so much to me as a partner. The way I feel about you... honest to God, no one else can compare. I'll do whatever I can to make you see the truth: that I'm fully devoted to you. Though I hate to see you suffer, part of me is so relieved to know that you're comfortable telling me about anything that bothers you. I'm more than willing to work on what we have, to make sure you're still happy with this thing between us. Please dare to believe you have nothing to worry about, okay? I'm in this with you._

_You'll never believe it. Niles and I had a major breakthrough, last night. I'd gotten up around midnight to watch the Geminids and found him already there, at the very same lookout spot I'd had in mind. I guess we're more similar than I had previously thought. I reckoned I better leave him be but before I could slip away again, he noticed my presence and invited me to stay. For a while, we just looked at the meteor shower, side by side. I wasn't expecting anything more than that, but as it turns out, he was ready to talk. He retracted his dermals and allowed for low-degree synchronisation to mutually communicate on a personal level. We sat there all night, until the sun rose and we had to get ready for our daily obligations. I've seen him a few times since and he's been very cordial. Of course I won't repeat everything we've talked through, but we've already achieved more than I ever dared to hope for. I mean, obviously, we're still a long way off from being the best of friends, but I feel like a major step has been taken in the right direction. Maybe some day, he'll allow for full synchronised access. I'm exstatic. I had to let you know as soon as possible. I'm so happy._

_I'm so proud of you both, sweetheart. Big hugs._

_Have you ever just stood outside while it was snowing? It's kinda peaceful. Was walking Sumo the other night when the drift really picked up and I just took a moment to bask in the experience. Wish you were here with me. Together we could rewrite some of the negative associations you have from your early days._

_By the way, I was wondering... should I look into the purchase of a #8858a? Here are some reference pictures from the catalog, just to consider. I thought it might be nice for us both to have some variety.  
_

_I've been thinking about you a lot. To have met you at all was such a serendipitous happenstance. Who knows what my life would've been like if it had been Carl and Markus running the Inn that weekend? Though now I'm miles away and don't regret the decision of volunteering, I've been thinking about where I'd really like to be. I know my journey isn't over yet. I'm starting to understand that human life is a winding and chaotically unpredictable path, but I can only hope that in due time, it'll circle back to you._

_Merry Christmas. Cole is spending the rest of the week at his mother's. Feeling kinda lousy. Would you be able to video chat again some time soon?_

_News coverage on the Chloe Kamski rememberance reached to even our little corner of the world. I can hardly believe it's already been a year. Feel a bit strange about it all. I can tell that Niles does too. However, since no one here seems to be aware of the details and our involvement with her death... I don't know, I guess I better not address it, unless he approaches me himself. Which seems unlikely. Though the communication between us keeps coming easier and easier, I'm realising the actual healing won't be a steady process. Even if talking about it is still a bit of a sore spot for him, maybe at least having someone near who went through the same can be a comfort. Though I wish I knew what else I could do to help him more effectively._

_Hank, you shouldn't have! I can't believe you'd send that. You'll be pleased to know everyone was thrilled to have a belated taste of Christmas, even if some of the snowy decorations looked hilariously out of place in this setting. The cookies were immensely popular, especially dipped in rompope. And the toys are being put to good use. Niles is absolutely obsessed with one of those retro fidget cubes, by the way - he might just keep that thing for himself._

_Not to be some kind of pervert but I keep scrolling back up to that audio file of you, you know. Would it be okay if I saved and kept that? Figured I should ask permission first because, fucking hell..._

_Today I went on a hike with two of our human staff who also had their day off, and we trekked all the way up to that stream I mentioned before. It'd grown exponentially since the last time, but we walked along the water until we'd found a quieter, safe spot to dip into. We stayed there for a few hours. It's a bit surreal. I'm still not fully accustomed to how green everything is here, maybe feeling just slightly out of place because I'd been specifically manufactured and put to work in the concrete jungle. The setting of this natural one is having a very different effect on my state. But I'm growing to like it. I'm starting to feel more connected to it all, life, earth, the grand scheme, even if I didn't naturally come from it and was just sort of thrown in there postdated. This world wasn't meant for me. But I was brought into existence nevertheless, and I've carved out a place for myself in it. It's a space I feel more and more allowed to occupy. Like I'm still a part of the whole._   
_As I let myself float and listened to the water and the howler monkeys and the sound of laughter coming from my colleagues, the only thing that I felt I was missing in this picture, was of course you by my side. When I reread our communication, it's almost like having you here. And of course, I carry a part of you with me wherever I go. I can recall your features in detail. But I miss being in your arms. Despite everything, it still feels like that's where I want to be - where I rightfully belong._

_Do you happen to have some old photo's of yourself? I'd like to know even more details about your life up until now. Don't give me the entire story just yet! It would be nice to maybe leaf through the albums with you in person, at some point in the future._

_Oh stop, you've already got me hooked! Well, fine, keep sending compliments, then. The funny thing is, I remember what that time was like, and I'm feeling the same type of way again. That's how you make me feel. Isn't that crazy? Just getting to know you makes me like a whole new person again. You're sparking to life something I thought I'd lost over time. You are unlike any person I've ever met before, and I'm so fucking thankful that you're mine._

_Niles and I have been making so much progress. It feels like something inside has been dislodged and resolved, and talking keeps coming more and more natural to us both. The other day, he said he truly considers me a friend. I actually started crying. Maybe at this point I can finally follow your advice and stop taking this entire aspect so seriously, just letting the bond develop on its own now that I see that that's working and actually going well. I only worry because it's so important to me. But this feels like a fresh start. This time, I'll do right by him. I'll be someone he can depend upon. It's such a relief to see him unwind more, now that he's grown so much more at ease around me and I can be the same in return. We've even developed our first inside joke! None of our human colleagues seem to understand this type of android humour, but we're having fun with it._

_The weather's been so great for this time of year. I can't believe winter's almost done. Time flies. Knowing I have you makes it fly unlike it ever has before. Thanks for being here for me._

_Not to be rash but lately, I've been thinking about something you said to me the first day we met. Look, I haven't always taken good care of myself. Maybe that's already had an effect I can't reverse. Even if I want to be here for Cole for as long as I can, I don't know if thirty, forty more years of natural life span is something I'll be granted at this point. Fuck, sometimes it feels like I won't even be able to survive till the end of the month. But somehow I'm still here? Somehow I've still lived through all those shitty days. And whether it ends for me tomorrow or twenty years from now, I know I don't want to bide my time half heartedly, never committing to much because I expect it all to be over soon anyway. Do you get what I'm trying to say? Or is this just complete rambling nonsense to you. I don't know. I'm just glad to know you. To have a second chance at feeling like this, together with you of all people, and it's something I want to commit to even more in whatever amount of time I got left._

_I dreamt of you last night. We were on the beach, that one time we went to the festival and made our way back to the Inn together, in the moonlight. Except the wind picked up, and lightning flashed overhead. The entire scene was tinged blue. We were all alone with only miles of rolling dunes and waves stretching all around us. But you held my hand, we locked eyes, and I knew I was safe. I let you lay me down in the sand and we made love in the eye of the storm. I think last night's downpour is to blame, not that I mind, of course..._

_Happy anniversary. You didn't think I'd forgotten, right? That was the best weekend of my life. I know I haven't been alive for very long, but still. I looked up at the moon and thought of you. I remember everything. The past year has been incredible. Just like you mentioned, I think I've also realised a few things about what I truly want out of this life._

_I still can't dare hope for it. Are you sure? Obviously I'd love for you to return but it seems like you've been so happy with the work there. I don't want you to regret the decision or feel like you have to do anything just for my sake. I'm absolutely fine with keeping it long distance if being there gives you the fulfilment you need. You mean the world to me, whether you're physically here or not. And like fine, I know by now that the feeling's mutual and we're both being incredibly selfish in wanting to be together and take up more space in each other's lives but still I have to make sure that you are actually certain. That you want to come home because the both of us deserve that._

_I've had a taste of what life has to offer. I'm excited to continue pushing my boundaries with new experiences. But most of all, I want to have you by my side while I discover what else is in store. I want to come home to you._

_I've discussed it all with Niles. He joked that he was glad to finally see me go. I've already given him your address so he'll know where to find me. He happily agreed to keep in touch, the same way I've been communicating with you this past year. I'm so elated to have reached that point with him. I've really learned to see him in a new light, and I can safely say those feelings are returned. We're going to keep working on rebuilding our bond in a better way. It's become less about making amends for my past mistakes and more about honest kinship as friends. I suppose in a way him and I are family? It's starting to feel more like that every moment we spend in communication. While I still want to be there for him while processing and resolving what we've been through, the biggest reward is seeing how much Niles is blossoming into a whole new person, free of the trauma he's been through before. We both feel like it's time he continues the self-development without my constant presence. Get back to working on our respective identities as seperate models from the same production line, if you know what I mean._

_Are you sure my paperwork's all done on that side? I've been keeping up with the development of android rights and rationally know it should be fine, but would hate to be sent back on some minor incongruence._

_Now we're really counting down! The people at the station haven't seen me this happy in ages. Think they're a little confused, but appreciate the change in demeanour all the same. Is there anything else I need to get ready in preparation? I've gone ahead and ordered some thirium reserve to keep in stock. The community worker told me to chill out, said I've got all my bases covered. Your meeting with her is in three weeks exactly, by the way. Had to rearrange some plans but I'll be able to drive you then._

_Haha no, he might still recognise you! Sumo is smarter than he looks. Wish you could say the same thing about me. Okay I'm just kidding about that, you can calm down. I can almost hear you yelling disagreement from all the way over there._

_Only a week left to go? I've packed most of my things already. The others are planning a going away party and I'm trying my very best to pretend I'm unaware of their intentions. The androids are doing a superb job keeping the specific plans blocked from our shared communication link. Too bad for them, the humans are terrible at playing it straight. I'm so perfectly happy. I can already predict the next few days will feel like a breeze. I'm just floating through the motions, dreaming about the moment I'll arrive in the States to come back home and continue my life with you and Cole. Being here has been an amazing experience, and I can't wait to tell you all about it. I'm counting down the days until I can see you. Once I do, I'll never say goodbye again. I can't wait to be with you. Nothing compares to the thought of getting to do that. I'm more sure than ever. I love you so much._

Hank opened the fridge and checked on the vivid blue jello he'd made. It had firmed up nicely. Though the chunks seemed a bit dubious, he figured it'd look fine once he got the chance to properly plate and garnish the meal. Which would be soon. His heart skipped a beat at the thought. The traffic between his place and DTW wasn't too bad tonight - it shouldn't take Connor long to make his way home.

"Cole?" he called out. "Are you almost done in there?"

"Yeah!"

The ten year old straightened out the last knife and fork before he came running into the kitchen, snuggling close to his father. Hank ruffled his son's hair in affection.

"Thanks, bug."

"I'm gonna go to my room now."

"Okay. I'll call you down the second he gets here."

Not that he'd need to, honestly. Cole had been looking forward to this almost as much as Hank had. He was certain that the kid would be sticking close to the window, waiting for a taxi and for the door bell to ring before he'd come back down and attempt to be cool as a cucumber in meeting Connor.

He was feeling a little jittery, himself. With not much else to do, he squatted down again to check on his oven dish. He knew it had been a sentimental notion, especially considering the android wouldn't be able to eat any of it himself, but it had only felt appropriate to make the same dish he'd had on their first joint night there. It made Hank feel a strange mix of emotions, to think how far they'd come since. Part of him felt youthful and energetic, ready to burst out of his skin with excitement at getting to see the other man again. The other part only felt a soft and peaceful content. All the puzzle pieces in his life were falling into place. To think that tonight, he'd get to sleep with Connor in his arms again...

He glanced at the clock hanging by the kitchen doorway. He knew the plane had landed on time, forty-five minutes ago. The cab ride couldn't take any longer than twenty to thirty minutes. How quickly had Con managed to go through passport control and customs inspection? It had been a while since Hank had been on an international flight, so he couldn't quite remember. Maybe the entire process was different for androids, anyway. But any minute now, he could arrive. Which would be perfect - they'd get a chance to catch up a bit even before dinner was ready.

The man put the last few utensils in the dishwasher before he took his apron off. He smoothed a hand over his hair, tucked his shirt back in where it'd been pulled a bit loose. Maybe he should freshen up. No, he wanted to be near the front door, he didn't want to cause even a second of delay when Connor would finally be here. He ran his hands under the tap to wet them and rubbed some water on the exposed skin of his neck, letting that be a bit of a cooldown. He then made the rounds straightening out the already tidied kitchen before picking up a stray screentop to take into the living room, letting himself drop to the couch while scrolling through a few articles online. He was only skimming the text. His attention was constantly snapping alternated between the digital clock display in the corner of the device and listening for any activity in his driveway.

He sat in agitated silence until the timer on the oven went off. Even without any real reason to, he checked the time again. The dish had needed an hour of cooking. He'd put it in - how long ago? He'd slid it in the oven and started on the cleanup, and after ten or maybe fifteen minutes Cole had grown too excited to sit still any longer and had gotten started on setting the table. The plane from Ecuador had landed at...

He tried to run the calculations in his head as he put the tablet aside and made his way over to the kitchen. Maybe he needed to write it all out, since the sum total didn't sit right with him at all. No matter the outcome, he'd expected for Connor to have arrived either way. Maybe there was a delay. Maybe Connor had forgotten where he lived?

Hank put the casserole on a trivet and took his phone from his pocket. He then put the device back. No, Connor knew perfectly well where he lived - he'd sent a birthday package last September and shared the info with Niles. Hank was pretty sure his address was part of the basic info package Connor kept on file on him, regardless.

He whipped out the phone again. Zero notifications. He opened the e-mailing thread he'd sustained with the android and typed out a new message. It had been close to a week since Connor had last sent an update, which hadn't been unusual with the region's spotty Wi-Fi. Hank's own messages since had been left unread as well. Maybe Connor hadn't had the chance to read them yet. It was entirely possible that depending on the airline, androids were friendly asked to disable their communication software during a flight, as to avoid any interference with air traffic control. And if there had been trouble with clearing customs after, then of course reconnecting to check his inbox hadn't been top priority. But still. Perhaps reaching out was a good idea.

 _Hey_ , Hank typed, trying to keep it airy and suppress the bugging little voice in his head which sensed something had gone awry. _We're all ready for you on this side. What's up? You make it ok?_

After some hesitation, he backspaced the full line to rephrase.

_Hi! I know your plane's touched ground by now. Did you get crammed in the overhead locker or_

He deleted this line again.

_Hey, Con. Could I get an update on your whereabouts? Just curious to know when I can expect you here, is all. No worries. See you soon._

He hesitantly added some emojis for good measure. Then deleted all but one before hitting send. The familiar loading circle appeared and kept spinning, stuttering, then resuming its cycling again. Hank only stared at the screen. After a few more seconds, he frowned and raised his arm to hold the phone higher, then took it from one room into the next. Even while technology had long evolved past that type of phone signalling, old habits died hard. Still, nothing seemed to work. After a few more minutes of waiting, a new icon cropped up: a red exclamation point, and a line of text conveying a failure to deliver. Huh.

Hank tried again, and a repeat of the notification came quick. He was not getting through.

Scrolling up slightly, he noticed this wasn't the first time for that to happen. Upon closer inspection, he saw that his communication from the past few days hadn't gone through, either. He'd assumed they'd just been unopened as Connor had been busy with the wrap up of his obligations there, but now it seemed as though none of his messages from the past five days had been received. Messages he'd sent via his phone and computer, at different places, during different times of the day.

It didn't have to mean anything. It was just kinda weird, was all.

He shouldn't overreact and make a complete fool of himself. Any moment now, Connor would ring the bell and he'd see him there smiling, laughing and only slightly vexed at the crazy story of his delay. Yes, it was a little weird and unlike him to not check in, especially since the Wi-Fi connection should've been fine at the main city or at the very least the airport itself, but that didn't necessarily mean anything _bad_ had happened, that he'd been kidnapped and sold for parts, or that he'd fallen off another donkey and busted his head right open, that the entire plane had crashed into the ocean and Connor was still sinking down, down, _down_ -

"Dad?"

Too wrapped up in his own spiralling thoughts, he hadn't heard Cole come down. Hank immediately straightened his shoulders and made a conscious effort to come across as more relaxed than he was feeling.

"Hey, kiddo. What's up?"

"I'm kinda hungry... Is Connor here?"

Hank checked the clock reluctantly. They tended to stick with a regular dinner time, for which they were currently running close to half an hour late. The discordance of his expectations for the night and its reality were starting to really sink in, having to admit this to someone else out loud.

"No, not yet. But I can fix you a plate if you want."

The kid looked hesitant, playing with the hem of his shirt as he ogled the dish on the counter. "That's okay. I can wait a bit longer."

They were silent for a few stilted seconds. Then, though he was eager to agree and act as if all would be well, Hank knew he had to admit he didn't have the same control over this any longer. He couldn't keep his son waiting while pretending it was fine. He had to face up to the fact that the night wasn't progressing as planned, and adjust to it accordingly.

"Hey, it's fine... I'm kinda hungry, as well. We can have a bite without him. I'm sure he won't mind - androids don't even eat, after all."

Cole nodded. He seemed relieved as he rushed to get one of the plates bracketing the honorary, empty seat at the head of the table. Hank tore his eyes from the clock on the wall and followed suit.

Cole stuck downstairs for the rest of the evening, watching tv in the living room. Hank joined him on occasion, his attention flitting in and out of the hours of programming. He kept getting distracted by any movement outside, any hint of a car maybe slowing down or the sound of voices whenever people passed by. He kept a hand on his phone at all times, if not to wait for new updates, then to check the time. The hour grew late. The evening deepened. When he noticed the street lights had been lit, Hank turned on the exterior light by the front door. He knew the visual cue wasn't necessary - that Connor would be able to hone in on the place like an overqualified GPS system - but it was better than doing nothing as they sat and waited for the arrival.

Connor still hadn't replied, nor did he answer the calls Hank tried to make every half hour. Not outright panicking was growing to be a more difficult feat at this point. He had no other way of reaching the android than through Connor's software ID. Now he, as a technological device, was somehow malfunctioning and not receiving outside communication. How in the hell was Hank supposed to get in contact?

The man noticed he'd been zoned out for a while. When had Sumo joined them on the couch? What programme were they even watching? He dragged a hand through his hair, then raised his phone to check again for the time. Nine seventeen pm.

"Cole," he grunted, not having spoken for a bit, "you should've long been in bed by now."

The boy kept petting the dog. "But da-ad..."

"Go to bed, Cole."

Though tired, the tone didn't allow for a rebuttal. Reluctantly, the child got up and hugged his dad goodnight. Hank leaned in and rubbed his hand up and down the kid's back.

Once Cole had quietly disappeared upstairs, Hank grew distressed a bit more. Now that he was completely alone and it was no longer necessary to keep his composure as to not worry his kid, he was starting to face the reality that something had really gone wrong. He flicked on the tv and checked for news updates, half fearful yet half expecting to see some disaster play out explaining why Connor wasn't here. Android-bashing protestors flocking the streets, a plane hijacking, or perhaps a spontaneous civil uprising in Ecuador itself. Nothing of the sort. He flipped through a few more channels for good measure, though he was barely taking in what he saw. Mentally, he was still absently grappling to find a reasonable explanation. Maybe Connor had missed his flight. Maybe he hadn't realised his messaging system was faulty, and he'd been detained at the border so they could fix that first. Maybe that was some type of safety protocol they had when processing androids upon arrival. Just like a car, give them a thorough checkup before it's okay to send them on home. Connor was probably bored out of his mind, stripped down to his bare chassis and going through the repairs in some back room in customs. Shortly before ten, Hank finally caved and decided to call the airport's customer service to speak with a clerk.

He wasn't sure what to think about the fact that this call went through perfectly. So there really was no issue with his own phone. It had to be due to Connor. The call was answered before he could get too wrapped up in the notion.

"Hello, and thank you for calling the service hotline of DTW Airport - your gateway to the Great Lakes State. Please hold, one of our staff will be with you shortly."

He got up and started pacing the living room as some brand of pan flute muzak started to play. After about two minutes, the sound got disconnected. It took another few seconds before Hank got patched through.

"DTW Airport passenger service, my name is Allie. How may I help you?"

"Uh, hi. Listen, my friend was supposed to arrive from abroad over four hours ago, and since I haven't heard from him yet, I'm starting to grow a lil worried. So, I was wondering if-"

"What flight does this concern?"

"It's the, hang on,"

He tapped a few icons on his phone to pull up the info again.

"It's number 324 from Esmeraldas, Ecuador. I think that was the only plane coming in from that country today."

He only heard the background noise of her tapping on a keyboard.

"Yes, it seems like that flight arrived on time."

Hank felt the tension of his nerves rise. "Could you tell me if he was on there? The passenger's name is Connor Arkait, that's A-R-K-"

"Sir," her cutomer service tone bordered on friendly yet stoically disapproving, as if speaking to a toddler. "I am not at liberty to give you any private information on our list of passengers."

"Okay, I get that, but-"

"I suggest you contact the person in question for more info."

"Okay yeah, I _tried_ that," Hank argued, "but I think that his communication software might be screwed up or something? And I'm not sure what your policy is, I mean, if maybe he was accidentally like interfering with your own radio channels and needed to be inspected by your TSA people, or if there's some type of government protocol on android safety that wouldn't allow-"

"Oh, just a moment! You're asking about an android?"

"I... Yeah?"

"Let me check that for you, sir."

Hank waited stupefied as he again heard her rattle on the keyboard.

"Okay, I can see the details here through our automated passport control data... It exchanged its reserved ticket a few days ago for a different date and destination. Looks like it went to the Outer Banks, just yesterday. Ar-ka-it, you said?"

Hank grit his teeth at the mocking condescension in her tone as she butchered the name. "Yeah."

"Hmm, it got there without any hiccups. You can contact local authorities, I'm sure they'll help you track it down no problem."

"Sure. Hey, Allie?"

"Yes?"

Hank bit back a reply.

"You've been a great help."

"You're welcome. Thank you for contacting DTW Airport passenger service, we highly appreciate y-"

He tapped the red phone icon a bit more forcefully than he strictly needed, and flung his phone to the couch. At least he'd gotten the info. But what was going on? Why had Connor decided to go back to Rodanthe - Hank assumed that's what he'd done, why else would he travel to the Outer Banks - instead of coming back here? Without telling him in advance? Perhaps he had been confused on where he was expected to go. Hank started back towards the couch to look for his phone between the pillows, but then halted. No, that didn't make sense. Connor had known perfectly well. They'd been talking about today for the past few weeks, ever since he booked that ticket. They never spoke of meeting up where they'd met, he was supposed to come _here_. So why the decision to change those set plans on such short notice. While completely ghosting all attempts at further contact, to boot.

Whatever the reason, Hank supposed no one would be arriving here tonight.

He glassily turned back to the setup of the dinner table. Cole's plate had been cleared and put with the rest of the dishes. Hank hadn't managed to eat much, figuring his appetite would kick in once he'd know Connor had made it home safe. He vacantly stared at that honorary seat at the head of the table, the placement which Cole had arranged several hours ago. In the kitchen, the casserole dish had cooled off to room temperature.

Despite everything that was going on inside, Hank stayed calm as he cleared the table, putting the used dishes in the washer and the unused ones back in the cupboards. His hands seemed to be detached from himself as he watched them delicately saran wrap and put away the leftovers. The bright blue jello got pushed further to the back of the fridge.

He didn't have the energy to go delving for his phone. Though he tried to fight it, just like that, the familiar feeling of dread settled over him and slowly seemed to drench him to the bone. After hours of worrying, all energy had been burnt up. Hank could only surrender to the exhaustion and drag himself upstairs, even as his mind kept stubbornly racing as it tried to make sense of the evening's events. He couldn't bother with undressing, never mind changing into his pyjamas. He didn't even bother with closing the bedroom door. His body hit the bed and stayed there. Though physically he was clocked out, his mind kept racing for a long time. Not a single car drove by as he finally fell into a deep and blanketing slumber.

The gloomy sense of defeat persisted throughout the following day. Hank was fully powerless, unable to do much besides wait for updates which he knew wouldn't come. Connor hadn't received his messages in days. He'd rebooked his flight without saying anything. He'd arrived to the States two days ago. If he wanted to get in touch, he would've done so by now. Hank could kick himself for how naive he'd been. It had seemed so _real_. It had all seemed _so_ real, and he'd grown to believe that someone could actually... But what other explanation was left. How else was he supposed to interpret this. It had only been a fluke, after all. It had all been too good to be true.

The hurt amplified when he saw the effect this had on Cole. The kid was similarly at a loss for what to do. As Hank had grown more and more confident in the relationship while talking over the past year, that excitement had rubbed off on his kid, as he'd looked forward to meeting Connor. He was now similarly thrown off by the complete 180, without the context or full understanding what had happened and what to expect following. Hank's heart nearly broke as he saw his kid bring a serving of juice in a lowball glass to sip from, as a quiet understanding of his father's pain and a scrambling effort to try and improve it somehow.

Hank couldn't let Cole be subjected to this poor sight. When the child hesitantly asked if he could bike to a friend's house two streets down and take Sumo with him, Hank agreed to it and let the kid get out of the house. This misery was his own to deal with. He could only chide himself for having been so stupid to want.

He'd been sitting in front of the tv for a few hours when the doorbell rang. He let it. He wasn't in a state to see anyone, right now. Except, whoever was at the door then decided to ring it again, pressing down continuously in an effort to coax him out. Hank was not in the mood for this, and ready to snap on whoever it was who felt so intent on bothering him. He struggled up, then made his way over to the entry hall.

"Okay asshole, what do y-"

With the front door open, Hank froze where he stood. It was like being struck by lightning, to be faced with a person who looked so much like, but simultaneously very clearly wasn't Connor. Physically, they were almost identical. Save from the grey eyes, it could've been him. Yet the body language betrayed that it wasn't. This person still had a sort of stoic rigidness about him which Connor had gradually eased out of. Whereas every time Connor had looked at Hank the android's features had instantly softened, this person now regarded him with only restrained and hesitant consideration.

It physically hurt to look at him, and yet Hank couldn't look away.

"Lieutenant Anderson," the android finally spoke, after the halted moment in which the two recognised each other. "My name is Niles. You don't know me, but I've been working with... May I come in? It's important for me to talk to you."

Hank stuttered, recovering his senses. "Yeah - yes, of course. Come on in."

He nearly stumbled over his own feet, backing up and then leading the android through the hall and into the living room. Even without knowing each other he could sense something was off about Niles, the careful and timid stiffness with which he carried himself.

The protocol of manners trickled back in as Hank realised he really had this man in his house. He had a link to Connor right here, with him, and had to act accordingly. He tried his best to remember how to assume that role of a host receiving their guest.

"Can I, uh, get you anything to drink? I've got some water, Thirium 310 at room temperature or chilled-"

He halted as the image of the jello flashed across his mind again, how it still sat untouched in the fridge. Niles filled the silence with his own tentative reply.

"No, thank you, that's alright."

"Okay. Can I take your coat, then?"

It was only casually draped across the android's shoulders, anyway. Though when asked even this simple question, Niles hesitated, briefly scanning his surroundings before looking to the ceiling.

"First, might I ask - Is your child at home? I wouldn't want to scare him."

Hank was confused as to what that had to do with anyhing. Niles hardly had a threatening presence. He seemed self-conscious and ill at ease, as if he wasn't sure on how he'd be received here and still embarrassed even now that he'd made it into the house. If anything, _he_ was the one who seemed scared. Hank wanted to treat him with caution, as to avoid scaring him off again and with him any token that reminded him of Connor, and their connection having been a real thing, once.

"Cole is at a friend's house. What's this about?"

Niles nodded, then reached one hand up to grab at his jacket's collar and pull. It seemed like he was only wearing a loose, black T-shirt underneath. Hank gasped as the left side of the android was revealed. He only had one arm. Some loose wires still dangled from the sleeve, haphazardly ziptied together in one bunch. The scoop neck of his shirt got disheveled in the awkward removal of the coat, revealing further damage to his chassis in the shoulder area. It seemed like his synthetic dermal covering system was too confused about the uneven dents and gapes to even try merging overtop. Hank stared in horror. When Niles caught sight of this expression, he sheepishly tugged his collar back into place, obscuring the worst of the chassis' damage. He walked towards the dining table and awkwardly draped his jacket over the back of the chair at the head before he took his seat there. Then he looked up at Hank, waiting for the man to join him. He needed a few more seconds before he could make his way over and do so. Even then, the android waited. As if still collecting himself - still trying to figure out how to best break the news.

Hank couldn't take this anymore. He'd grown nauseous with worry.

"Please," he started, "I have to know. What happened."

Niles only needed a few more seconds before he could recount the events. He started off by reassuring Hank first of all that Connor hadn't suffered much. He hadn't been alone when it happened, and despite everything, he'd seemed at peace.

It had been raining for days. This happened anyway during the wet season of the tropical climate and both the locals and the volunteers at the clinic had been prepared for it. So they hadn't been too worried, simply continuing life as usual while managing the weather they knew was only typical for the region. The day had started like any other. That morning, Connor had completed some routine checkups on a class of local school children - he'd grown quite fond of kids, and most of them took a liking to him in turn, his sweet and disarming type of demeanor, his honest interest in their lives and any aspects of it that they wanted to share with him. One of the nurses had made a thirium ice cake for his impending departure, and they'd laughed as he had discovered its existence during the lunch break. It was meant to be revealed as a surprise after the long work day. They'd never get the chance.

By afternoon, the rain started picking up, turning into a veritable downpour. The seasoned volunteers who'd been doing this for more than a few years were the first to realise they should take safety precautions, and decided to enact their emergency plans to move further downhill on the mountains, to a safer shelter. All androids had insisted the humans leave first, taking the more expensive vaccines and medicine with them. They'd taken one of the jeeps and gotten down before the road had been completely washed out in the mud. From the secondary base, they'd radioed in warning the others. The conditions were only worsening at a rapid pace. They should take the remaining two vehicles and get out as soon as possible. Most of them did. Connor had gotten into the car. He'd been the one to notice Niles was missing. A quick scan revealed he was still out there running back and forth, gathering material instead of heeding the warning and getting himself to safety. The other androids took off in one car, carefully manoeuvring downhill as Connor rushed back. He'd found Niles in one of the older setups, scrambling to keep a hold on their supply of aluminum canes.

"What are you doing?" he'd yelled.

Niles had been scattered and distressed, clutching the canes to his torso as he struggled to pick up the ones he'd dropped, keeping only a messy grip on either bundle.

"We can't leave these here, they'll get lost in the flood-"

"So will _you_ if we don't get out!"

"We can't let them go to waste, these supplies are worth more than gold around here..."

Connor had only dragged a hand through his hair, looking around him in slight panic. Outside, the rain kept thundering down, onto the leaves, slicking the dirt and hauling it down in a steady onslaught, only collecting more rocks and debris on its way. The faster they'd get out of here, the better. His options had flashed to mind instantly. He couldn't win a physical struggle against the advanced model - trying to force him into the car would be a waste of time. Persuasion might work, but even with a longer time frame than he estimated they had left, the odds of success wouldn't go over 65%. He could only agree and make them leave faster by helping out.

"Okay," he'd assented, grabbing Niles by the shoulder. "Throw those canes in the jeep outside. Then grab a few first aid kits with essentials - I'll get some portable defibrilators from the other building."

They'd worked as quickly as they could, loading up the truck with the most expensive and irreplaceable supplies that had been left. They even managed to bring one of the compact X-ray machines, extra needles and refrigerated blood donation packets. A major mudslide was imminent. They'd only just left as the newest addition to the buildings got swallowed whole by an avalanche of sludge which came roaring down on the site. Niles had turned in his seat and saw it happen first hand as Connor focused on getting them down, their odds of survival constantly rising and falling again in his peripheral settings.

The number had been climbing steady and they'd almost made it to the rest of the crew. But the roads had already been weakened by the days and days of constant rain, and one slip of the vehicle's back wheel was enough to make them skid off the slippery path altogether. The weight of the added materials only made the drop land harder. The car slid down a short incline, stayed in freefall for a few agonisingly long seconds, then smashed sideways onto its driver's side.

From that moment, there was nothing either of them could have done to avoid it. While the 900 edition had been designed with military service in mind, the 800 was not as strong and resilient, leaving him more vulnerable to damage. And he'd borne the brunt of it. In the crash, Connor had gotten stuck in his position behind the wheel, his chest and abdomen splintering on the impact and his soft internal components getting punctured while he got further buried in the toppling objects they'd taken with them in the car. Not only was he injured and stuck, he was steadily leaking thirium from several gashes in his chassis. Both had known instantly it was a death sentence. Still, stubborn as ever, Niles had started digging through the rubble, hurling the precious medical equipment out of the way in an attempt to get to Connor. As the other android moved, he could feel the foreign items in his torso cavity drop and dig deeper. No emergency protocol could shield the components again. He'd been shattered badly. He was running out of time. Trying to fight it would only speed up his shutdown.

"Niles," he'd only cried out on a whimper. "Niles, stop. It hurts."

"I'm sorry- I'm so sorry-"

Connor had grimaced and reached out a hand, retracting his dermal coating down to his wrist. The withdrawal was shuddering and flickering as his systems were trying to prioritise functions. Niles had grabbed the hand and initiated synchronisation. Connor breathed a sigh of relief when the information from his own pain receptors got drowned out by Niles'. He only had some minor injuries in comparison. Aside from some scrapes and a single laceration in his left shoulder plating, he'd be alright. Though he looked on in horror as the link gave him, too, a visual on the countdown which blinked in Connor's field of vision.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out again, grasping the fellow android's hand in both of his. "You only came here because of me. This is my fault. I should've listened, we should've left the second this got dangerous-"

" _I_ should've listened," Connor protested. "If I had just been there for you, if I hadn't driven you away, I wouldn't have had to chase you down again."

"I was relieved that you did. I was so relieved to know you cared enough to come find me."

Connor choked back a laugh. Thirium bubbled at the back of his throat.

"Can you- please- share, with me-hh hhhrrhrvrvrvvvrrrrrr"

They shifted into wordless communication as Niles opened up in full, sharing impressions and thoughts from both the past and present through their complete access software link. Connor apologised for making Niles go through another traumatic experience with him. He was only met with sincerely compassionate understanding in response. The two held on tight throughout as they finally shared the honest communication they'd craved from one another. Until the timer of Connor's deadline reached a critical low. Until he'd leaked so much thirium it pooled on the side of the door and sluggishly dribbled along the window and onto the ground below. Until his body froze in its position and any form of interaction was cut off. Though Niles could slide his hands free and run, he stayed even then. Even while the crawling mud engulfed them both, seeping through the clutter of medical supplies and into Connor's unresponsive body frame. Niles stayed and looked into his brother's blank face even as he felt the mud flow over his own appendages, finding the fresh gap in his shoulder and flooding the wirework there until the whole arm grew numb. He didn't want to leave him. Not again.

He spared Hank the details. Only explained to him that they'd tried to make it out in time, but once they'd felt the ground give way below the truck's wheels knew Connor's fate had been sealed. He told him he'd stayed with him the whole time, pinging a rescue signal until the two of them had been recovered the following day. With no access to android resources and spare parts, Niles' arm had been removed as it was found unsalvageable. The next few days had been a flurry of paperwork, trying to get Connor back to the States for the needed repairs. It had been an arduous and frustrating process, especially since Niles hadn't known if Connor's state was one of permanent deactivation, a stable coma, or a condition actively worsening with each passing moment. With all his systems corrupted and disabled, there was simply no way of knowing. But he'd contacted the one man most capable of making the assessment and after hearing which android it concerned, mr. Elijah Kamski had pulled some strings to make the transfer happen. Connor had been there since, still caked with mud and passively bleeding thirium throughout. The sight had been too grotesque and upsetting for him to be transported with any human passengers. He'd been stored in the baggage hold while Niles travelled in his name on the rebooked ticket. He'd taken a connecting flight to Detroit as soon as possible to notify Hank.

He seemed apologetic in his explanation. "I know it's not ideal for me to come over half a day late for your expected meetup, but I thought it was news you needed to hear in person. I came as quick as I could."

Hank needed a moment. He swallowed, tried to speak. Had to try again.

"No, I understand. You handled it well. Thanks."

"I know what you meant to him, that I needed to show you that measure of respect. When Connor and I connected, when I let him in on my experience... it all bled through, I could sense the unparallelled devotion and love he felt for you. And you should know that you were the one person he thought of in those very last-"

Hank shoved his chair back and strode into the kitchen. His expression had barely changed. Only a slight tremor and twitch across his face revealed how much he was affected by all this. He steadily walked over to the fridge. Ignoring the jello in the back, he reached for a carton of citrus juice and poured a generous amount in the lowball Cole had left out only a few hours ago. His fingers itched for something stronger. Something he knew he still kept buried in one of the overhead cupboards in the garage. He couldn't allow himself to fall into that. He could only keep his shoulders straight and down the drink, craving the slightly bitter tang and feeling of a chilled liquid sliding down his throat. It didn't satisfy. He poured himself a second helping on autopilot. Niles hesitantly came up behind him.

"Lieutenant, I'm sorry if what I said-"

"It's fine. I'm fine. I'm sorry for your loss."

He shuffled his feet. "I'm grateful to have been given something to lose. From the moment he arrived, it was clear to me how much he'd changed... Like he was a whole different person. I barely knew how to react to it, at first. And though he managed a good part of it on his own, I know now that you had an irrefutable impact on his desire to become someone better. So I'm thankful that you helped him make that change. In part because of your relationship, he finally could give me what I needed: the chance to actually, _honestly_ connect with him and for us to mutually understand each other."

Hank gulped down his second drink. He hoped the cool sensation would help him feel more composed before he'd try to speak again.

"That's nice. I'm glad for you. That you at least got that much."

Niles realised the man hadn't been granted the same type of closure. He was only left with the aftermath, with cold hard facts to give a place without any grasp on the matters. Though someone else was here to understand and to share in the grief.

"Is there... is there anything I can do to help?"

"You can leave."

The silence lay over them both as a suffocating blanket as Hank poured and seamlessly downed a third helping of bitter citrus juice.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," the android finally settled on. Hank put the glass down. He held it loosely between his fingers as he jiggled it left and right, making it sing where the glassware skidded on the countertop. Still turned away from the android, he let out a soft sigh.

"Im sorry, Niles. You don't have to worry about me. I just- I need to process this on my own for a bit."

Niles stood quietly for a moment, reading the man's body language from across the room. He could see the tension he carried. The way every muscle seemed clenched until he shook with it, in a stubborn effort to stop his body from crumbling in full. Perhaps leaving was not the best idea. But the android realised that, considering he looked so much like Connor, to stay and comfort this human might be even worse. He decided to obey the man's wishes.

"Then I'll be leaving for a while. I'm headed back for Rodanthe, to be with Connor and assist mr. Kamski where I can. My own chassis is still in partial disrepair and scheduled for similar maintenance. Since I have your contact information, I'll send updates on his health status if- _when_ it progresses. If that's something you would like."

Hank nodded. He wanted another swig. He wanted to choke on it. He wanted Niles to leave, so he could resort to heavier drinking without a sad-eyed witness. No - Connor's beautiful, dark brown eyes would seem sad at this. These grey ones were too piercing, too clear and knowing and staring a hole in the back of his skull, he could practically feel it. He didn't want his shame to be exposed. While the android still seemed hopeful, Hank couldn't be. And he knew that wasn't just his own pessimism speaking. The proof was standing right there in his kitchen: the fact that they hadn't been able to rescue that single arm component was telling enough. The combination of initial crash damage and added muck had been that destructive to Niles' biomechanic systems. To try and mend the more essential and delicate internal hardware on a downgraded model, a unique prototype at that, days after his shutdown... he just knew things weren't looking good, at all.

With nothing left to say, Niles took the hint and left.

How Hank dealt with the grief in the following hours was no one's business but his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me while watching the og movie ending: ...wait what
> 
> Anyways, can you believe we've made it to the penultimate chapter? You can tune in next week for the final instalment of the series. And thanks for coming on this ride with me - it's been amazing.


	8. Summer

That summer was a long, sweltering haze of months all fusing together into a blurred passage of time. Hank went through the motions. Work, household, taking care of Cole, long nights in front of the tv which might as well play static for all that he managed to take in and digest from it. Eat, sleep, repeat. While constantly waiting on news which wouldn't come.

He didn't let manifest any indication of his depression outwardly. He kept at least the surface appearance balanced by folding all complex emotions inward. Didn't mention to anyone what had happened, and neither did he elaborate when hesitantly asked no, really, _how have you been_ , deflecting it all so the people in question would know pressing a third time would be of no use. Even if the slow and sure implosion he was living through left its warning signs - slowly growing bags under the eyes, some weight gain from the stress eating, and showing up late sans valid excuse - with a constant impression of being slightly cut off from the world around him, broody and withdrawn whenever someone did try to approach him. But he still showed up to perform his duty at work, still feeling responsible to perform in the role he'd taken on. Even if Captain Fowler silently assessed this condition and relegated his Lieutenant to full time paperwork at his desk. Hank wasn't invested enough to feel stung at the clear downgrade.

Outside of office hours he managed the same. Even if it exhausted what little energy he had left, he kept the house clean and tidy, only allowing for the clutter in his own bedroom to pile up over time. No matter how he felt, he dragged himself out of bed every morning, washed up, got dressed, and saw to it that his son had breakfast before the two left for school. So what if he dropped every attempt at being cheery the second his kid was out of sight. So what if more often than not he needed some time to recharge before he could continue on to the station and spend the work day there. So what if he appeared more drained and tired-looking than most people could ever remember having seen him. He was dead set on his commitment to the performance. He didn't have much else left to go on.

Ashley became a bit of a confidante when she expressed concern. Though met with the same stone wall of placations, she knew how to get to the sentiments buried a few layers deep, and managed to get at least _some_ of those dark thoughts out in the open. Even if there wasn't much she could do to help the concrete isssue of Connor's trauma and repairs, at least she offered a listening ear and a hot drink to soothe the pain of carrying those burdens. When she offered to maybe take care of Cole for a while, give Hank some space, she saw her ex cave a bit more right where he sat. The offer was swept off the table again. Though she picked up some slack (which Hank wearily realised was only a sign of him failing as a father, again, as it was a deficiency no one but he himself had caused) by helping Cole out more with his homework assignments. He also noticed that now, whenever the kid came home from having spent his routine days there, it'd always be with a Tupperware container or two.

At work, Captain Fowler didn't ask. Having been classmates at one point, he'd long grown accustomed to Hank's sporadic mood shifts and gracefully gave him some room instead of prying. He knew _that_ would only have two outcomes: forcing Hank to withdraw further and feel shit about it, or making the bubble burst, making him feel even worse. So he left Hank to try and make it through his work day without any more unnecessary approaches from well-meaning colleagues. It was vaguely annoying to see Gavin act similarly. It wasn't hard to guess he'd been spending some time at his brother's place during the weekends, working double time on the extra assignment of trying to fix Connor. Both the android's current condition and Hank's must have been in a real bad state if the other detective now showed that degree of consideration by being cordial and staying out of the man's way as much as possible. It was vexing. Hank didn't need fucking pity, especially not from _Gavin_ of all people. He was doing just fine. The way in which everyone insisted on treating him with gentle attentiveness was a predicament he hadn't signed up for. It only emphasised how much he wasn't doing just fine.

Whatever. This was just another tally on the muddled slate of his long, exhausting life. Yet another example of him having invested time and effort into something only for it to blow up in his face. No, not his face. The scale at which he'd experienced those feelings meant they had burrowed themselves deep beneath his skin and bones, nestling warm inside his core before it'd all been ripped out again, leaving him open, vulnerable and empty. The following weeks of weary standby had been too suffocating to allow for any type of healing. He was paralysed with fear and seasoned depression. The months of inactivity and standstill were like a greedy sludge oozing into the wound as he tried to keep his head above water.

He'd muted the communication from Niles and only gave in to check the updates during some of his many sleepless nights, when the constant inaction became too deranging to handle. Only then, after another long and tiring work day - the tenth or twentieth or possibly millionth in a row it felt - did that fragile need of his undeniably ache for any link to current reality. None of the updates were particularly promising.

  
_I'll have you know I've been fitted with a new and custom-made, fully operational arm. Though I know this is a far cry from our main issue at hand, I do hope this knowledge might provide you with some trust in mr. Kamski's skills, as well as hope for Connor's future._

_Though it might be tempting, please refrain from replying to his ID for now. Any communication link to Connor is still inaccessible at the moment, yet there's a possibility of triggering something should you attempt an approach, especially considering your close bond. In addition to his technical difficulties, he might emit nonsense signals while he's being extensively examined and worked on. Avoiding communication might help shield you from these non-messages._

_My apologies for the bit of venting, but I feel so powerless and don't have many people to confide in. It feels exasperating to have been granted 'liberty' but not the full package of benefits that should come attached with the status, including equal pay or support from insurance. I'm so grateful mr. Kamski has agreed to cover the costs. I know you are also in large part to thank for this. I cannot help but imagine, if the two of them hadn't sufficiently mended their bond last year..._

_Perhaps it will give you some comfort to know that this weekend concluded the full cleanup of his internal systems. Down to the finest ducts and veins he's been completely purged of all natural residue, and most of the fragments of his chassis with it._

_Cyberlife is still refusing to cooperate with mr. Kamski, on the grounds of their relevant blueprints being classified information. We've obtained some legal advice from corporate and civil rights lawyers alike in response. Though a case could be made on behalf of Connor's personhood and ensuing entitlement to his personal biological files, the odds of acquiring them are unfortunately slim._

_Mr. Kamski's brother has sent me a photo of you at the station today. Though I know we are but distant acquaintances, I do genuinely hope you are managing alright and remember to take proper care of your own person._

_Though some of his plating needed to be replaced, custom made or refitted, perhaps it will do you some good to know the modified spot on the side of his torso has been preserved. On the inside as well as the outside, those markings have made it through both the initial trauma and the lengthy repair process._

_This message is to notify you that I'll be in temporary deactivation so that Elijah can thoroughly examine my biomechanical structure and work his way back from there in an attempt to get a better understanding of Connor's systems. I will be unavailable for contact the next 2-15 business days, if not longer._

_I'm relieved to let you know the effort yielded some beneficial reults. Elijah is getting a head start on the more difficult aspect of the recuperation, which is the extensive coding and software calibration. So far, it's still impossible to gauge whether or not any data from his life before has been preserved._

_Would it be helpful to you to see a photograph showing the finished effect of his fully mended chassis? I will not attach it to this messaging thread until you've replied affirmative, just in case._

_Markus and Carl Manfred have recently joined us in our efforts to restore Connor's data. Both Markus' original status as an advanced prototype and their following work in AI interactive software might prove to be highly advantageous to us now._

_We thought there was some sign of responsiveness. It was only a blip of activity and there hasn't been a repeat occurrence. Elijah is working daily on the issue to try and pinpoint the hangup._

_My apologies for not having been in contact in a while. I'm sorry to say not much progress has been made since I last reached out. I will send an update should any change occur._  
  


Hank could never bring himself to reply. Not only because composing a message in itself would be difficult - an action that would prove taxing both mentally and physically - but because he couldn't allow himself to get swept up into the hope and expectation of progress. With just one short reply back to Niles, he'd get stuck in a real, two-sided conversation. Knowing he could only bring despondency, Hank chose to at least spare the android that much and kept his distance. He couldn't pretend as if he expected a good outcome. The least he could do is keep his negativity to himself and not burden others with it.

Which didn't mean he stopped caring or thinking about Connor. On the contrary; he thought of him every single day. Even if he didn't mean to, wanted to spare some part of himself which was trying to cope with the worrying and not knowing and just make it through his day-to-day life. The messages he received he still read, and the ones he had saved in the past year were devoured over and over again. Hank hated how some details of their time together had faded, his imperfect human brain failing to capture and retain the info down to the last details. Connor had managed to. He'd remembered everything about their stay together, that time at the beach. And now that perfect recollection of the events had been put in a lockdown, software unresponsive and dead if not completely erased, while Hank's own memory was ever insufficient. How many details of their relationship together had he forgotten about? How many more would follow? If the last conscious witness of their intimacy was forgetting it too, then did that nullify the events from having happened at all? It felt as though he was killing a bit more of Connor with every aspect he couldn't quite recall - the first verbal exchange they'd ever had, which different types of laughs he could unexpectedly burst into, how he fit into Hank's arms, the exact pattern of beauty spots along his calves... while it had all meant so much and still did, the factual impressions were fading. That entrancing, immediate bond they'd felt like a slow and comforting melt, like a strike of lightning, all of it was slowly but surely slipping into oblivion - never to be experienced again.

Haunted by hazy half-echoes, Hank tried to fill in the gaps by tracking down any information he could on the android. From his personal devices, this got him access to news articles on the android pre-deviation. They were on a person so far removed from who Connor had grown to become, even before he met Hank, that it was like reading about a whole different model altogether. Yet the pictures attached to these reports didn't lie. It was definitely Connor.

Every single time he maintained the same facial expression, despite the various circumstances of being photographed. That same resolute face seemed almost copy-pasted from the initial news bulletin onto snapshots of various on-scene aftermaths. Appearing disheveled, damaged, splattered in thirium from himself or another android, always staring blankly ahead. Unbothered and still so unfathomably beautiful. None of the depictions betraying the true personality which had started blossoming deep inside. As much as Hank tried to peer at that face, detect any sign of evolution, a spark of recognition to reveal the existence of the man he'd grown so attached to - the evidence of Connor's past life only served as more of a disconnect. Another painful indication of that person having been snatched from him, maybe forever, with only these inaccurate recollections of some surface level aspect of him left. The search engine of the police database only yielded more detailed reports on the same cases, but with additional contact info on the people who had employed this negotiator, hunter, terminator. The info was useless to Hank. To know nothing out there could satisfy his need for the connection only left him further wounded.

The slow deterioration of his own mental state was a source of shame and disgust. While he was expected to stay strong, he was only slipping, surely disappointing everyone around him as he was so clearly incompetent to deal with the shit life had thrown at him. To carry the burden of this grief was a lot. The longer he tried to continue shouldering it, the more it weighed on him. Especially to go through it during those bright and hot months, surrounded by the impression that real joy was out there for the taking, look at all these other people having the time of their lives... the dissonance only made him feel more isolated. It was a harsh reveal of the pattern he'd been sticking to all his life. Going through the motions as was expected of him, and constantly being thrown at the passage of time and miserable discovery of _oh, God, another year has gone by, and what have I done with the months I've been given. What has it added up to. What difference has it made_. As he cut himself off from any meaningful connection with others, he was only left with his own thoughts, and the relationship he had only with himself. It brought on a confrontation with a truth he was trying to avoid: that he only ever wasted his life, never having lived it to the fullest. Aside from the rare beacon of light, only seeing eons of damage and regret in the sum total of his life span.

The past year had been beautiful. A brief respite, a blossoming hope at new chances and revival. A life which had been dangled in front of him only to be swiftly crushed, putting him back in his rightful place to try and recover from on his own.

Hank had grown tired.

In the long run, he just couldn't catch a break.

He wasn't able to escape thoughts of that gun he kept in the safe at the back of his closet. Even if he never entered the code to take it out and feel that cool, comforting weight in his hands, the idea kept reoccurring more frequently as time wore on.

He could take it, load it, drive somewhere remote. Find a good spot, maybe in the woods or by some body of water. Call the ambulance in advance, let them know what was about to happen and allow for the tracking on his phone to pinpoint his location. He could do it without getting anyone else involved. No unwilling eye witness or bystander to stumble upon him after. Somewhere far from home, so Cole wouldn't have to associate anything familiar with his dad's suicide.

That was the one thing stopping him from going through with it. Cole.

Even if he knew Ashley would take good care of their kid, he couldn't hurt his own son like that. Even with every possible precaution to try and soften the blow, he'd still abandon his own child. It was selfish. It made him ashamed to even consider the option to put his plan into motion. Yes, he was a mess right now. Unable to take proper care of his kid, dragging him down by association because with every passing day it was only becoming more obvious to see how much Hank couldn't wait out the hurt. Most days, he did genuinely believe Cole would be better off without him, to at least be given a fair chance at life without a depressed parent to weigh him down. Except the kid loved him. And he loved Cole right back. Even though he was so fucking tired and stretched thin, he couldn't betray that bond and irreversably wound his own child like that. He had to keep balancing on that tightrope, just drag himself through another day and hope that the pain would dull itself over time. Even if the uncertainty of Connor's recovery kept him on edge. He had to admit to himself that the constantly churning worry was only making it worse. Perhaps it'd be better to at least see confirmation of what he'd instantly known. Even though he dreaded that news. With every update from Niles he dared to read, his heart clenched in expectation of that forbidden truth: _Elijah has decided to pull the plug on this project. We see now that the endeavour was doomed to fail from the get go. It's a shame, but nothing can be done. Good luck with the grieving process._

Yet that message never came. More time went by, summer nearing its end. Hank welcomed it. In a way, to approach the familiar was a comfort. Yes, the cold and grey of fall and winter might make him even more depressed. But this was a devil he knew well. A pattern he had grown familiar with over his many, many years of experience. At least it made some lick of sense for him to feel like shit in those months. Maybe then he could feel some more understanding and compassion towards his state.

Again, that message from Niles never came. But as August was drawing to a close and the very first signs of those impending autumn months began to set in, a different notice was received. A message coming from a contact ID which had been silent for an unbearibly long time.

_  
Hank, are you there? I'm awake. I'm stable. Please, meet me back where it all started. Come home to me._

Hank returned to the Outer Banks in late summer. As they sped towards The Inn At Rodanthe, he rolled down the taxi window and let a fresh breath of air enter the car. Cole did the same on his side. Sumo turned his nose up to appreciate the smell of brine where he lay at their feet. The dog had been comfortably dozing for a while.

The kid stuck his head out as far as he could while still held down by the seatbelt in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the sea. His dad watched on fondly.

"Can we go swimming when we get there?"

They'd left on a morning flight. It was only late afternoon, with the summer sun still high in the sky as they made the journey towards their destination.

Hank was leaned back in his seat, appreciating the landscape as much as the image of his child being here to enjoy it all with him. "Sure, kiddo. I'll take you asap."

"Hmm, maybe another snack first."

Hank rifled through his bag again to make sure. Just an hour ago he'd already gone through it, convinced he had another granola bar in there but again, no such luck. He'd grown peckish, himself.

"Can we take Connor swimming with us?"

His heart ached at the mere mention of the android.

"I'd guess so. If he feels up to it."

Though Cole was fully prepared and looking forward to the meeting, Hank still had his doubts. Sure, he'd sent a few messages back and forth with the ID (nothing too long or taxing, as his recipient was still recovering from the temporary spot of death he'd experienced), during which they'd made arrangements to meet here and for Connor to fly back home with them after the weekend was over, but still. Even now, part of Hank had trouble believing this was going to happen. It just felt like they'd been here before. Even despite all the communication, the messages, the phone calls, he still wouldn't be able to believe for that which he craved to be given back to him after all. Not until he'd actually have the android in his arms.

He turned again to look at his kid, who was jumping a little in his seat as he swore he'd seen some kind of fin in the water, maybe a porpoise or dolphin. Hank was just glad to have him here. He smiled as he rubbed the kid's shoulder.

He didn't notice they'd reached their destination until Cole was the one to point it out, gasping and leaning just a bit further out the window to get a better view. He then looked back to give his dad a big, toothy grin. Only then did Hank look ahead.

It had been over a year since he'd been here. The familiar structure still stood proudly among the dunes, overlooking the landscape, beckoning them from afar. The closer they got, the more Hank could recognise the small details he hadn't thought important to remember. The warm and weathered grey wood sidings. The bright white painted details and blue shutters. With these kickstarts came different recollections of the house - potted plants with bright flowers, decorations of sea glass and shells, the way the natural salt coated everything in a thin layer, like crystal, like sugar. It was all still here. Even if Hank hadn't managed to forcefully cling onto the memories himself, it had all still been here, waiting patiently for his return.

The OBX taxi turned down the drive from the main road and headed straight for the house, slowing and finally stopping, its passengers having reached their destination. Like he'd done many months before, Hank didn't bother with holding back his dog (or his kid, this time) as both backdoors were thrown open, the party of three spilling out. Directly ahead, their path continued on underneath the Inn and all the way into the ocean. Hank took a moment to close his eyes. He needed to breathe this in. They'd made it. They'd made it all the way here. Now, it was only up to Connor to do the same.

After a beat, he reached back into the cab to pay the fare, confirm his arrival, and take out their baggage. Just as he sent the vehicle on its way, he heard Cole's voice pipe up. When he turned towards the sound, he saw the kid talking to a pair of familiar figures. Just off to the side was another dad with a child of his own.

"Hi, Luther," Hank hollered, leaving their bags on the asphalt to make his way over.

"Hank," the other greeted, "so good to see you." Alice was perched high upon his shoulders, looking down at Cole with evident curiosity.

Hank put a hand on Cole's back.

"So the two of you have introduced yourselves? Alice is about the same age as you, so maybe you could hang out while-"

"Actually," Luther interjected, reaching up to grab the girl in question and lower her to the ground. "She's twelve now, so she's just a little older than Cole."

"Is that so?"

He hadn't noticed it while the child was still on Luther's shoulders, but now it became clear to see something had changed about Alice. It was a subtle difference. Hank had some trouble pinpointing the exact shift which had occurred. Maybe her face was a bit slimmer. Maybe her limbs were fitted differently. Maybe it was due to the cognitive software update that came with this selected patch, altering stance and micromovement. One very clear change was her height. The adapted chassis had made her at least four or five inches taller. Her hair looked different, as well. Despite the changes, she still looked up at Hank a bit nervously, waiting to see how he'd react to this simulated growth spurt she had chosen to go through.

Hank smiled. "I see. They grow up so fast, huh."

Both androids seemed to relax a bit with relief. It was only a minute shift in posture, imperceptible to the human eye unless you were somewhat close to androids and cared enough to notice. Hank did.

"Well bug, you better respect and listen to her, then. Considering she's older, wiser and all that. As for you, young lady, you better not misuse that power to get the both of you into any mischief."

She beamed up at him. "I won't!"

Cole stepped forward, tapping on her arm to get Alice's attention. Both seemed buzzing with excitement to make a new friend, to get to know this fellow child better.

"Hey, do you want to see our dog?"

"Yeah! Can I, Luther?"

A short blip between their LEDs showed parental assent. The kids sped off to find the Saint Bernard just up ahead. Before Hank could get into a conversation with Luther, maybe ask how Kara and the shop were doing, they were joined again by a new addition to their group.

Markus came up for a warm greeting, welcoming their visitor to the Inn. Much like he had done the year before.

"Glad to see you made it safe." The human and android shook hands warmly, their contact lingering just a bit. "Well, you'll be the first guests to stay on the third floor family unit. Cole's bedroom has one of the new dormer windows facing north, and the master has the seaside balcony, of course. Connor's already unpacked his things. Leo and I can take your bags up, if you'd like."

Hank hadn't even heard the last sentence. His heart skipped a beat the very second he heard about Connor.

"You mean, he- he's already here? Connor is here?"

The man felt ready to break from the group and run straight up three flights of stairs to get to him. Markus noticed the immediate excitement and couldn't hold back a laugh. Before anyone could elaborate, Hank's phone buzzed. He fished it from his pocket automatically. It was a message from the android in question.

_I can spot your location. Do you mean to stand with them all day, or will you come say hi?_

Attached was a photo of the Inn, taken from the very end of the asphalt path where it ran into the sea.

His heart fluttered again. This was happening. This was really happening. The time was now.

"Gentlemen-" Hank managed, his mind elsewhere, as he turned back to where the taxi had dropped Cole and him off. He put the phone on the bags. Then turned to look beneath the stilt foundations of the house, straight to the ocean waves where the paved pathway led.

He hadn't noticed it before but yes, there was a figure there.

The man had to stop himself from breaking into a sprint. He could do this. He was fine. He had control over himself. He followed the solid path beneath his feet in the direction of the surf. Underneath the sheltering tunnel of the house, then out into the open. Nothing but an overwhelming sense of natural life surrounding him. A beautiful coastal landscape of warm toned sand and the soothing ocean, ever rushing and pulling and calling out. An entire world full of life, fish and gulls and people all thriving and basking in the loving embrace of sunlight. He was only focused on that one anchoring point directly ahead. A person in the waves, standing upright and attentive, looking right back with the same ecstatic vigour Hank could feel inside.

So what if he sped up his pace just a bit. He stumbled closer, barely trusting himsellf to believe his eyes. But with every step he took, the truth only became clearer, and he was like an addict craving to see it better, to take in more. There it was - those different biocomponents of that general figure becoming more distinct with a jolt of deep euphoria. The proportions of his body - shoulder and waist ratio, visible through the wet shirt, exactly the way Hank didn't even realise he had grown to remember. The brown mop of hair becoming recognisable in its shape, the one floppy streak curling over his forehead. The specific tilt of his lips as he smiled. The familiar pattern of beauty marks dotting his skin. And most importantly, that spark in his eyes as he took in Hank with the same love and attention, allowing for reality to filter in and enrich the dust-covered memories from before.

The man's heart felt like it might burst. He had his confirmation. Despite everything, they had both made their way back to one another.

Hank waded into the glistening water, let himself get soaked without hesitation. Laughter bubbled from Connor's core as he noticed this shared eagerness to reunite. The two men met and wrapped their arms around each other. Connor instantly pressed his face into the side of Hank's neck and could barely hold back tears. The human was exactly as he had remembered him. The smell, the warmth, the feeling of his body pressed against this newly fixed chassis.

Meanwhile Hank was trying his best to fold himself around the android as much as he could. Not only to feel, to continue reaffirming to himself that _yes_ , this was really _him_ , Connor had safely found his way home. But also in a silent promise to them both to help keep the android safe from future harm. This feeling of complete devotion was returned in full.

Even with all the natural and thirium-based tears that were flowing freely now, both had to pull back to crash their lips together. Though the couple couldn't do this for long. The pure joy at experiencing the feeling only caused Hank to cry harder, making it hard for the human to breathe while sobbing into their kiss. Connor pulled back with a fond and adoring look. Reluctant to let him go, Hank held the android's face tenderly cradled in his hands, as if he were the most precious thing in the world. They leaned their foreheads together, eyes still locked in pure incredulous rapture, now smiling wide and breathing in each other's presence as the waves still lapped all around them. It didn't matter. The both of them stood firm in the tide.

Only when Connor felt something brush against the back of his calves, did he break away to look down. Surrounding them both swam a group of brightly coloured dwarf gourami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! That's the AU I needed in life, and now it's a real thing that's been put out in the world. The past two months have been unlike any project I've ever taken on but I'm glad to have seen it through to the end, and I'm glad to have had some readers along with me for the journey. So thanks again for your support throughout this writing process. It means a lot.
> 
> If you enjoyed my story, please feel free to leave a kudo or comment, as it'd make me incredibly happy to have your feedback.
> 
> For more interaction, you can always find me @ ayyponine.tumblr.com B)


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